


Looking Through Your Eyes

by Dream_Wreaver



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 21:51:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10953423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Wreaver/pseuds/Dream_Wreaver
Summary: What happens to a monster when the thing making him monstrous is gone? It leaves only a man. A monkey master and a ninja slowly learn to see things from each other's points of view, but will it change things? Read to find outCross Posted on FF.Net





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! More stories, all the stories. This was inspired by and uses several elements from the story series Aftermath by the lovely Deliverer, who as far as I know is only on Fanfiction. Please, go check out their work it's incredible! Anyways, enjoy!

“It was a Tuesday,” Drakken began, about to regale his story of how his skin had turned blue to Professor Dementor when he felt a tap on his shoulder. The blue mad-scientist villain temporarily turned good for the sake of saving the earth from the Lorwardian invasion turned only to find DNAmy smiling at him and wiggling her fingers hello, “Nngh, what is it DNAmy?” he asked in annoyance at having been cut off,

“Oh Drakky wacky, I’m sorry to interrupt but I need to speak with you,” she eyed Dementor, “alone if you can.”

Drakken raised a brow, “Oh really? And _why_ would I want to do that?”

DNAmy tilted her head and gave one of her disarming smiles, the kind that typically threw off those who weren’t quite sure of her state of sanity. But for those who knew, however, it was a smile that usually meant if they didn’t go along with her childish whims there would be a rampaging mutant to deal with, “Because, I have something really, really important I want to talk with you about. Not to mention, you still owe me one for saving your life from that mutant.”

Drat, she had him there. Despite villains being quite a treacherous lot they did have some sort of code. One of the few rules a villain abided by was that if another villain saved your hide you owed them a life debt: a favor that never expired and could be used for just about anything as long as it was related to evil. It was as much a reminder not to let yourself get in over your head as it was a reward for showing some shred of decency.

“Nngh, alright,” he agreed, rising from his chair and following DNAmy over to a corner where they were less likely to be overheard, well as less likely as a spot in a place currently overrun with villains could get.

“Now Amy, what is it you want? Finally calling in that favor after all this time?” honestly he was surprised she even remembered it, let alone hadn’t wasted it on something stupid like the few others he’d owed a debt to had.

“Yes, in a sense,” DNAmy replied, “I need your help with something.”

“But I’m still not hearing what that something is,” Drakken replied.

DNAmy fidgeted for a moment, biting her lip and furtively looking at the table with Adrena Lynn and the currently petrified –for lack of a better word- Monkey Fist she had vacated, “I want you to help me bring Monty back,” she finally said.

Drakken blinked at her for a moment or two, “Why would you _want_ to do that?” he asked, unable to comprehend, “For almost a year now he’s been avoiding you like the plague. Now you have him and he run, why would you wish to take the risk of him leaving you if he ever got turned back?” despite the disastrous confession and rejection he had suffered at her hands, he knew DNAmy had a kind heart, the type that was easily crushed by the wrong words, and blast it all if he didn’t feel a little fraternally protective over her.

DNAmy bit her lip again, eyes flying to the prone Monkey Master’s form, “I know that, and I know I should be grateful that I have him like this. But it’s just no fun if my Cuddle Monkey can’t cuddle back. I think that if the two of us work together we can reverse the effects of whatever did this to him.”

“What did happen to him anyways?” Drakken asked.

“I’m not sure really,” DNAmy admitted, “All I know is that the tracking chip I put in his fur the last time I caught him alerted me to the fact that he hadn’t moved places in almost a month, and despite his love for Japan he usually doesn’t spend extended amounts of time in the same location in that country for some reason. So I decided to investigate and eventually I came upon where the coordinates said he should be but there was nothing! So I called on one of my little Cuddle Buddies to start digging once an ultrasonic scan showed something buried quite a few feet beneath me. Imagine my surprise when it was my poor Monty puddin’ and pie turned to stone!”

“Really?’ Drakken raised a brow, “And that’s all you found?”

“That’s all I needed to find,” DNAmy replied, “Of course, the scan did show some sort of ancient building located just below where Monty was, but I wasn’t really concerned about that.”

“Oh, alright,” Drakken finally agreed, “I’ll help you get Monkey Boy back. With our combined genius it should be quite simple,” formulas –tentative and already existing- began whirring through his mind. Chemical compounds, elixirs, and he felt the evil genius which had temporarily been put on hold waking up, “Just let me handle Dementor and Shego and we’ll get started.”

KP

Meanwhile in Japan. The Master Sensei of a secret ninja school broke from his meditative trance. This was most disturbing. Worriedly he stroked his beard as he made his way through the halls of Yamanouchi, looking for his most trusted pupil.

He found her sparring with the young Hirotaka, more for fun than for practice as he could tell from her movements. She was toying with him. Just as well, Hirotaka always took matters of the ninja education a little too seriously.

“Yori,” he called, interrupting their mock battle. Yori and Hirotaka halted their movements, dropping their stances and becoming as relaxed as a ninja ever did. Yori glanced over at Sensei before bowing to her opponent and excusing herself.

Hurriedly she walked over to him and bowed, “Sensei, you wished to speak to me?”

“Yes my child,” he replied, “Come with me, there is an urgent matter we need to discuss.”

He led the child back to his private meditation room, the one place in the entire dojo besides his own chambers they could speak without being disturbed.

“Sensei,” Yori began, “Is there something the matter?”

“A great deal child,” Sensei answered, “I have sensed a great disturbance in the balance of the world. An old evil is attempting to be revived.”

Yori held back a gasp, “You do not mean-” she began.

“I do,” Sensei replied, “Someone has taken Monkey Fist from the temple of the Yono, and I fear he is about to be liberated from the path he willingly chose. This cannot come to be, or else the world will suffer from the Yono’s wrath.”

“Yes Sensei, I understand,” Yori bowed.

“You must travel to America and find Kim Possible and Stoppable-san. You will need their assistance to have Monkey Fist returned here. Remember child, Monkey Fist must not be revived, or Yamanouchi and the rest of the world will wither in the path of the Yono’s search.”

Yori bowed once more, “It will be my honor she replied.”

“Very good. Now leave at once, time is of the essence.”

“Yes Sensei,” Yori bowed a final time before disappearing.

Sensei watched her go, stroking his beard and praying to the deities this would all end well.

KP

“So KP,” Ron Stoppable said as he hopped in the passenger’s seat of his girlfriend’s car, “Where we off to today? Paris? Argentina? Bueno Nacho for a Chimerito and a Naco?”

“Try the beach Ron,” Kim said with lopsided smile as she got behind the wheel, “It’s summertime: you do know what that means don’t you?”

“Um…” Ron trailed off while tapping a finger against his lip, “Wait don’t tell me; frequent increase in babysitting? Villain’s schemes become tropical themed? Oh! Rufus needs to apply sunscreen more often!”

“Sunscreen!” the naked mole rat echoed from his place within the pocket of his owner’s shorts.

Kim laughed, “No silly. Summertime means the three S’s: sun, surf, and sand. And I plan to do plenty of all three.”

“Oh,” Ron said in realization, “Badical! So, we meeting Monique up at the shore?”

“Unfortunately not,” Kim replied, “Monique had to take over the shift for the manager at Club B today, so it’ll be just the two of us.”

“Hey!” Rufus called, insulted by the insinuation.

“And Rufus,” she gave the hairless rodent the side eye and he quickly retreated.

“Can we stop for Bueno Nacho on the way?” Ron asked.

Kim raised a brow and stared at him a moment, just long enough to make him think she was annoyed with him for suggesting it. when he looked properly freaked she smiled acquiesced, “Oh I don’t see why not,” throwing the car in reverse she backed out of the garage and headed to the fast food chain.

KP

 After making a pit stop in the drive-thru of Ron’s favorite eatery for some nachos and burritos they were on their way to the beach. The car was soon parked, locked, and alarmed and Kim and company were lounging on the beach under the semi-protection of a large beach umbrella.

“Ah, this is the life KP,” Ron said with a hearty sigh as he put his arms under his head, “No Barkin, no villains, just you, me, Rufus, and my Naco.”

“Ron,” Kim groaned good-naturedly, pulling her sunglasses down to give a cynical stare from over the rims.

“Oh you are so right!” Ron suddenly exclaimed, “We need sodas,” he hopped to his feet, motioning for Kim to stay put, “You stay here, I’ll be right back.” He raced off across the sand, looking for a vendor of either physical or mechanical variety that would get him some of what he sought.

He eventually saw a machine situated between the entrances to the public bathrooms Middleton had installed decades earlier to make changing easier as well. He dug through the pockets that didn’t have Rufus in them for change and eventually managed to scrounge up a few coins. Just as he was about to put one inside the coin slot a hand grabbed his wrist and began to run, tugging him away with them. For around two minutes he was dragged across the sand and belatedly Ron wondered why no one was either stopping them or even noticing this was happening. Then again, with Middleton constantly the target of his and Kim’s enemies he supposed it was quite easy to become jaded to scenes like this.

Ron’s captor chose that moment to leap and go airborne, landing on the arm of an abandoned lifeguard’s chair whilst Ron himself was deposited into the seat.

“Okay now what’s with all the commotion here?” he demanded, looking up at his assailant, “Yori?” his eyes widened in surprise, she wasn’t dressed in anything he’d usually seen her in. This time she was dressed in a pair of capris and a short sleeved shirt: not out of the ordinary but with enough give for her to have run the way she was used to.

“My apologies Stoppable-san,” the young ninja replied, “I needed to speak with you urgently.”

“And I suppose they haven’t heard of cell phones up at the secret ninja school right?” Ron raised a brow as he squirmed for a more comfortable position. The chair rocked dangerously and Ron squeaked, instantly going stock still.

Yori chuckled, “Ah Stoppable-san, again with your American-style jokes. I have missed them.”

“Yeah, right,” Ron agreed distractedly, “Jokes. Now what was it you wanted to talk to me about and why did you have to drag me all the way up here to talk about it?”

“I merely needed to inform you that this was a matter Yamanouchi required both yours and Kim Possible’s assistance with.”

“Well, hard to do when I left KP to go get some sodas,” Ron replied.

“Come then,” Yori said, “We will return to Kim Possible at once. This is a matter of great urgency,” with the ease and grace of a dancer she back-flipped off the arm she’d been balancing on and landed safely on the sands below.

“Ah, okay!” Ron called down as he slowly maneuvered himself into being able to climb down the dubious ladder of the chair, “You wait there, and I’ll be down in a minute.”

About halfway down the rung on which he stepped had rotted through and broke beneath his weight, sending Ron down to the beach with a yelp and a crash.

Yori laughed, “Ah Stoppable-san, you with your American-style buffoonery.”

Ron, still in an almost scorpion position on the ground spit some sand out of his mouth, “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse with pain, “Buffoonery.”

KP

Kim glanced up as the shadow of her boyfriend passed over her, “About time you got here,” she playfully ribbed, but stopped short upon noticing the female figure standing beside him: unable to see the other girl’s face due to the glare of the sun, “And you brought a friend,” she continued with less enthusiasm, “How nice.”

Ron cleared his throat, “Uh KP,” he said, “We’re gonna have to cut beach day short.”

Kim lowered her sunglasses and looked up at him, “Um, why?”

“Kim Possible,” Yori said as she bowed in greeting, “I did not mean to interrupt, but there is a matter of great importance which requires yours and Stoppable-san’s assistance.”

“Yori?” Kim questioned upon recognizing the girl from her voice, “Wait matter of great importance? What’s the sitch?” just then her wrist Kimmunicator beeped, “Go Wade,” she said.

“Kim,” Wade began, “Sorry to interrupt your vacation, but it’s really important,”

“Yeah,” Kim said glancing at Ron and Yori, “I’ve been getting that a lot lately.”

“Well not like this,” Wade replied, “There’s been a break in at a top secret chemical lab,”

“Sounds like Drakken and Shego,” Kim commented.

“Normally, but get this: there have been panicked reports of some sort of mutant creature rampaging through different sectors. That can only be the work of one person,”

“DNAmy,” Kim replied.

“Exactly,” Wade agreed.

“Pardon me,” Yori interrupted, “But who is this DNAmy of whom you speak?”

“One of our many repeat foes,” Ron explained, “She’s a former bio-geneticist that’s absolutely cray-cray.”

“Yeah, cray-cray,” Rufus echoed from Ron’s pocket.

“Cray-cray?” Yori repeated in confusion.

“Um, let’s just say that sometimes DNAmy isn’t all there,” Kim replied, “She’s the one who turned herself into a gorilla because she was crushing on Monkey Fist, remember?”

Understanding dawned on the other girl’s features, “Ah yes, I remember now.”

“Right,” Kim said before turning back to her one-man base of operations, “So what do you think is going on?”

“The target sounds like Drakken, but the creature is all DNAmy.”

“A possible collaboration?”

“Most likely. It’s the only thing that make sense.”

“But why?”

“Rare chemicals, recently they’ve been working on some sort of top secret formula that’s supposed to trans-mutate stone into living tissue.”

From off to the side Yori softly gasped.

“Why would they want to do that?”

“Two words: ready-made soldiers. Think about it, if they can just bring soldiers to life, ones with no past or ties to deal with they can make as many copies as they want without worrying about fatalities on the battlefield.”

“But why would Drakken want that? Doesn’t he already have an army of plants?”

“Still working on an MO, but in the meantime you need to stop them.”

“Alright Wade, we’re on our way. Just where is this chemical lab anyways?”

“In the middle of the Mojave and Sonoran deserts in Arizona. I’m sending you the coordinates now. Your ride should be here in ten minutes tops.”

“Thanks Wade,” Kim said as she signed off, “Come on Ron. We have a mission,”

“But Kim what about Yori?” Ron protested, “She has something important to talk to us about, something she needs our help with.”

“Looks like it’ll just have to wait,” Kim replied, “DNAmy –and possibly Drakken- and that chemical lab take priority. Yori, is there someplace we can meet you at when we get back?”

“Actually,” Yori began, “I was wondering if I might accompany you and Stoppable-san on this mission. I believe now that these events are connected.”

“Connected?” Kim and Ron looked at each other, “How so?” Kim asked.

“I will explain on the way,” Yori said as a small plane appeared overhead, dandling a ladder to the ground, “But I believe this is our ride as your friend Wade put it.”

Kim and Ron shrugged, if nothing else Yori could handle herself in a fight. It might be nice to have another set of hands to deal with whatever sick freak of nature DNAmy had come up with this time.

KP

About an hour and one miraculous costume change later the trio, plus Rufus, were en-route to the chemical lab.

“Thanks for the lift,” Kim said to the pilot from her seat.

“It’s the least I can do after you stopped those scrappers from tearing my baby apart,” the pilot replied, lovingly patting the console of his plane within the cockpit.

“It was no big,” Kim shrugged it off.

“Now Yori,” Ron turned their attention to the ninja girl who had come with, “What does what you have to tell us have to do with DNAmy breaking into some lab?”

“Sensei has received some disturbing news,” Yori began, “It seems as though Monkey Fist has been separated from the temple of the Yono.”

“So he’s free?” Ron exclaimed.

“In a sense,” Yori replied, “His body is still stone, but it has been removed from the temple. This has greatly angered the Yono and woken him from his slumber. He was most displeased to find his newest body gone.”

“Newest body?” Kim raised a brow.

“You see, the Yono seeks disciples in order to maintain a physical form on this plane. Many years ago, he was free to roam about and do as he pleased. Naturally, though, his antics upset the natural balance of the world and thus he was punished by the gods. This punishment kept him trapped in the immortal plane. But his powers, and his influence were not so easily forgotten. You see, as a semi-deity –a demigod if you will, he was worshipped by humans as any other would have been. He had a cult, a village, and most importantly a temple. The original followers of the Yono were powerful mages who quickly used their arts to attempt to bring back their Lord. The legend says their efforts involved a willing sacrifice to become the bridge between the Yono and our world. That is how the tradition started.

“When a person agrees to follow the path of the Yono they also agree to become a living bridge and anchor on this plane for his magic to latch onto. That is why it is the one who unearths the Yono that must be defeated in order to defeat the Yono, as it weakens the Yono’s anchor for his powers.

“However, when the un-earther is defeated he takes the place of the Yono’s previous body and is turned to stone. This happens because the Yono’s power is too great to be contained within a single human body, it burns them out immediately. The Yono turns the body to stone in order to preserve it until he is unearthed again. However, the body must stay with the temple of the Yono in order to become his new anchor. If it is removed the Yono will not rest until it is returned.

“Now that you have mentioned DNAmy and her infatuation with Monkey Fist, I believe she may be attempting to return him to human form. The Yono will refuse to accept this unless another body is provided to him in exchange and I fear the worst may occur in the interim.”

“And since Monkey Fist’s been taken the Yono will come looking for him,” Kim replied.

“Yes,” Yori agreed, “And he will cause who knows how much destruction along the way.”

“Isn’t the Yono some sort of monkey god?” Ron asked while stuffing his face with all the snacks he could find, “So can’t he just teleport wherever Monkey Man is?”

“Not only that,” Kim added, “But you said the Yono was punished by the Gods and is unable to exist on this plane at all without a human body to anchor him.”

“This is true, but the ancient scrolls detailing this legend have been lost or destroyed. What we have been able to figure out over time is that the spell the mages cast combined with the Yono’s own power in his desire to be free weakened the seal put upon him. It is believed that when he reaches a certain number of sacrifices it will be broken and he will no longer need an anchor. I fear it is weakening even now as his presence was sensed by Sensei. There is an upside to this, as one part of the Gods’ curse still holds firm. His power in this plane is extremely limited without an anchor nearby,” Yori explained, “He will still be able to levitate and destroy, but he cannot appear where he wishes to at will.”

“How do you know all this anyways?” Kim asked.

Yori looked down at her lap, “Not all the graduates of Yamanouchi over the years have been honorable ones,” she explained, “Once graduated it is up to the individual to choose their own path. Some, similar to Monkey Fist, chose the dishonorable yet seemingly easier route to power. They fell prey to the Yono, which was how we came to know of this tradition.”

“Ah, like Fukushima,” Ron said knowingly.

“Fukushima?” Kim asked.

“When I went on that exchange program there was this other student named Fukushima that didn’t really like me. So much so that he helped Monkey Fist steal the Lotus Blade to get back at me,” Ron explained, “It all worked itself out in the end.”

“Indeed,” Yori nodded, “Fukushima-san was expelled from the Yamanouchi school for betraying us and helping Monkey Fist obtain the Lotus Sword. Fortunately, Stoppable-san was able to recover it for us.”

“I see. Anything _else_ you wanna tell me about your little trip to Japan?” Kim asked giving Ron the eye.

“Nope, Monkey Fist, magic sword, traitor ninja. That about covers it,” Ron replied.

“Good, because guess what?” Kim said as she peered out the window, “We’re about to disembark.”

KP

“Good Rabbitoceros! Good boy!” DNAmy cooed as her mutant wreaked enough havoc to keep the scientists at bay while she and Drakken raided the research lab for the chemicals he’d need in order to attempt reversing the effect of whatever had happened to her poor Monty-wonty. Her job was to keep an eye on the beast for now, and an eye out for Team Possible, as Drakken had accurately predicted a break-in this size would attract the heroine’s attention for sure.

Like clockwork the heroine and her sidekick turned beau showed up.

“Ah, Kimmy!” DNAmy cried, happy to see the ginger for some reason known only to her, “And you brought your little friend!”

“That’s boyfriend!” Ron shouted.

“Right, right,” the geneticist placated, “Now can’t you do me this one favor and not be meanies this time? I really want my Cuddle Monkey back and this is the only way.”

It was then she noticed the third member of the opposing party. But hold on, who was she? A barrage of memories of the last time she’d tried hunting Monty down assaulted her and among them she recognized the girl. She had been interfering the last time DNAmy had gone after her sweetheart. Her being filled with a jealous rage.

“You!” she hissed at Yori, pointing at the ninja with an accusatory finger, “You’re trying to steal my Monty away from me!”

“What?” Yori blinked in confusion, “I am merely attempting to protect the world from a grave danger. We cannot allow Monkey Fist to return to his previous form.”

“You’re just trying to throw me off the scent!” DNAmy shouted, “I know what you want and I’m telling you now you can’t have Monty! He’s mine! Rabbirhino attack!”

Kim had already realized there was no reasoning with the woman and sprang into action, taking on the mutant with relative ease, though she could tell it was only getting warmed up.

“Um guys?” She called as she fended off the creature, “I could use a little help here.”

Ron and Yori, who had been too stunned at the accusation recovered and went to work. Ron shifted into a fighting stance before doing what he did best: running away and screaming. Yori, on the other hand, drew out her Tessan and began to help combat the monster.

With the two agile girls playing off one another the creature was soon detained and DNAmy was throwing a hissy fit.

“Oh you big meanies!” she cried, “No fair tying up my poor little Cuddle Buddy like that!”

“Enough!” came the shout from a very familiar blue arch nemesis, “Amy, I have the formula now let’s go before Shego starts wondering where I am.”

“No!” the older woman pouted, “I won’t leave my baby alone like that?”

“And what of the Monkey Man?”

Now she looked torn, “Oh, alright,” she finally said, “Mommy’s sorry baby and she’ll be back for you later. But right now she needs to help your future daddy!”

“Oh for the love of-” Drakken dragged a hand down his face in irritation before pulling out a ray gun and firing it at the knot Kim and Yori had secured the bonds around the mutant with. Instantly fried the chains slipped loose and the creature began to rampage again.

It immediately attacked its former captors before stopping short due to a whistle. The heroes and the Rabbirhinoceros stopped and turned to its source. DNAmy stood in the cockpit of Drakken’s hovercraft with her fingers near her mouth.

“Come on Cuddle Buddy!” DNAmy cooed, “Let’s go get your Daddy back!”

“Fare thee well Kim Possible,” Drakken said as he began his escape, “Even as a graduate you’re not all that!” with an evil cackle he flew off into the sky, leaving Amy’s mutant to find its own way back.

Kim, Ron, and Yori stood in the remains of the research lab staring at the spot where the villains were heading off to, even long after they were gone.

“Great,” Kim said, “Just great.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is resurrected, complications arise, and shelter is found.

“And you’re sure it’s okay we didn’t catch the bad guys?” Kim asked for what was probably the hundredth time since meeting with the head scientists at the lab that had been completely trashed during the break-in and subsequent battle.

“Oh sure, don’t worry about it,” The director assured her, “The repairs to the building are covered by the government and all the work was backed up in triplicate in case of something like this. Not to mention, the only thing that was stolen was a defunct serum anyways.”

“Didn’t he steal that serum that turns rock into living tissue?” Ron asked.

“Yeah,” Rufus chimed.

“Project Living Stone?” the director questioned, “That project was shut down weeks ago, we were just waiting on a disposal unit to help neutralize and destroy it.”

“Neutralize?” Kim asked.

“We always try to neutralize failed projects in case of leaks in the containment unit, just to keep the environment as un-mutated as possible,” the director replied, “Anyways, I don’t see how that serum would help Drakken. It’s unstable, and would probably harm the user more than anything.”

“What?” the trio gasped.

“Well, it only does that after it works. And it only works on things that had living tissue in the first place. Much of our testing failed when applied to regular rocks, but on petrified wood it reversed the petrification process. However, the reliving wood started turning to ash and dust. We were never able to get the wood to stay wood for very long.”

“Oh my, if they try that on Monkey Fist,” Yori broke off into muttered Japanese.

“What’s wrong Yori?” Ron asked.

“Though Monkey Fist is a villain, no one should have to meet their end in such a way. It is not honorable.”

Ron thought about Monkey Fist being brought back to life, only to just as quickly disintegrate into dust and ash. It sounded like something that belonged in a horror movie, but even Ron could admit his arch-nemesis deserved something a little more fitting for his end. While the whole being turned to stone thing wasn’t what he had imagined, it was somewhat poetic: being undone by his own obsession.

“Yeah, you’re right. We need to stop them before they kill him again!” Ron exclaimed.

“Just for curiosity’s sake,” Kim continued her line of questioning, “Why were you never able to stabilize the serum?”

“The regeneration process requires a very complicated type of rapid growth in cells our scientists just couldn’t harness. The only way to stabilize the serum would be to combine it with a super high pollinator serum, but no one we have contact with has even come close to inventing that yet.”

Kim’s eyes widened. Oh, no.

“Come on,” she said approaching Ron and Yori, “We need to track down Drakken stat!”

KP

DNAmy was so excited she could barely stand it. Drakken was working on stabilizing the compound by combining it with whatever had given him those plant powers. And soon her Cuddle Monkey would be back! In the meantime, Drakken had insisted she set Monkey Fist up on the lab table so when the mixture was ready they could administer it in one even coat. Shego, was busy reading a magazine, not really caring about the fate of the former villain and fully expecting it to quite literally blow up in Drakken’s face, though for DNAmy’s sake she secretly hoped it would be the one time she was wrong.

With a lovesick smile she gazed at her darling Monkey man. She pressed a kiss against her fingertips and brushed them along his forehead. Soon, so very soon. She just hoped it would work. Wait a minute! She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little souvenir she had gotten on her rescue excursion of Monty.

It was a small bronze disk that looked almost like some sort of crest clasp that she had purchased while stopping over in a small village on her way to find her beloved. Emblazoned on it were two monkeys shaped a lot like the kind one would find in those barrel of monkey games she’d played as a child. Their downward facing arms had been linked together while the upward facing ones fanned out along the upper curve of the circle. At the monkeys’ feet was a small flower DNAmy couldn’t quite identify. The man who had sold it to her had said it would grant protection from evil spirits and obstacles. Essentially it was a good luck charm, and DNAmy could think of no one who needed more luck than her darling right now.

Gently she placed it on Monkey Fist’s chest, right where the folds of his tunic crossed. She turned away for just a moment, then returned and picked up the disk. Fingers clenching tightly on the metal charm she wished with everything she had that Monty would turn out okay after all this. Then, just for good measure, she pressed a kiss against the surface before returning it to the sternum of the Monkey Man’s petrified form.

“Amy!” Drakken called. DNAmy turned and rushed to the evil doctor’s side. Drakken began to somewhat explain what the new serum was and how it would work once applied to the statue so that she wouldn’t fret and would be able to recognize if something went wrong. With their backs both turned neither realized that the disk glowed briefly before –for lack of a better word- melting into Monkey Fist, leaving no trace that it was ever there.

Once finished Drakken had a glass box with a shower head attached inside lowered over Monkey Fist. There was no telling what would happen to them if they were exposed to the gas the mixture was sure to produce and Drakken wished to remain only as mutated as the super high pollinator had made him. The showerhead inside the box was connected to a pipe outside it which was hooked up to the small vat of solution Drakken had managed to mix together in order to hopefully free Monkey Fist.

As he began the final preparations he called out to his sidekick, “Shego, prepare yourself!”

“For what?” Shego mocked, “The greatest feat you’ve ever accomplished? Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

“Nngh! No! I need you prepared for a fight, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Shego asked.

“While DNAmy and I did make a clean enough getaway, I wouldn’t put it past Kim Possible and friends to strike at the worst possible moment! I want nothing to interrupt this process, do you hear me?”

“Uhuh, tell me again why we’re doing this?”

“Because,” Drakken grumbled, “I owe DNAmy a favor.”

“Oh, say no more,” Shego understood, “But tell me why _I’m_ involved.”

“Because I pay you to be.”

Shego shrugged, he had her there, “Okay then. Don’t worry Dr. D, Kimmy and friends won’t get by me that easy.”

“Guess again Shego!” Kim exclaimed, busting into the lab. Ron and Yori followed close behind.

“Shego! Get them!” Drakken ordered as he activated the machine which would (in theory at least) bring Monkey Fist back and cancel out his debt to DNAmy.

Shego could normally handle one crime fighting teen. The sidekick was never usually a problem. But they’d brought a third this time, one who could hold her own in battle. Just great, now she was getting double-teamed.

“Uh DNAmy,” she called while dodging a kick, “If you want Monkey Boy back I’m gonna need a little help keeping these two at bay.

“Oh right!” DNAmy said, realizing what she would need to do. She stuck her fingers in her mouth and whistled. Instantly her Doglobster came out from hiding and proceeded to attack the young ninja, who was loathe to harm another creature, especially not one that was meant to exist the way it was.

But while both villainesses were occupied with the females, that left Drakken open to Ron and Rufus. Not to mention, the battles raged a little too close to the containment unit which housed the Monkey Man. Drakken was able to keep Ron enough at bay, but he was seriously worried about the other two. Eventually he decided to take matters into his own hands, or vines as the case was.

“Flowers, attack!” instantly vines which he had decided to grow around his lair in cases such as these sprung out and streaked towards the teens, “Capture them, but don’t kill them, yet,” he ordered. Within moments Kim, Ron, and Yori were cocooned from the shoulders down in vines.

“Drakken, you need to stop this!” Kim called out.

“Ha! Not likely,” he taunted.

“Please!” Yori cried, “If Monkey Fist is revived it could mean destruction for the whole planet!”

“Yeah right,” Drakken mocked, “I’m _soo_ sure!”

“Seriously bad juju coming if he’s freed!” Ron tried to reason.

“Yeah,” Rufus, also trapped within the vines, agreed, “bad juju!”

Whilst the fights had raged the serum had been pumped into the containment unit, misting it over in a light green fog. It had by this point began to dissipate so Drakken removed the containment unit and let the rest of the fog fade away. There, lying on the table top, was the prone form of the former Monkey King. He lay splayed out and vulnerable –much like a corpse on an autopsy table-, the pose he’d been frozen into released with the return of flesh and muscle.

“It worked!” Drakken cried with glee.

“It worked?” Shego repeated in disbelief. Sure, she had hoped, but she had never believed…

“Ha ha!” Drakken laughed, “Game over Kim Possible. You lose!”

“No,” came a deep voice which had those wrapped up stiffening, “You _all_ lose!” and in floated the monkey known as Yono the Destroyer.

“Oh no! Yono!” Ron cried in fear, wriggling about in his instinct to run far, far away.

“What the-” Drakken began, “Who are you?”

“Yono is known as Yono the Destroyer. And Yono has come for Monkey Fist,” the Yono replied.

“What?” Drakken repeated, “What do you want with him?”

“Yono has come to reclaim what rightfully belongs to him,” the Yono explained, “Monkey Fist has chosen the path of the Yono, and Monkey Fist will find his destiny within that path. Now, Yono will take Monkey Fist and return to the Temple of the Yono, the newest anchor once more preserved in stone.”

“I don’t think so,” Drakken retorted, “Shego!”

“On it!” Shego called, igniting her hands and charging. Unfortunately, she was going up against a foe much more powerful than she, the battle did not last long.

“Nngh! Flowers!” the vines instantly dropped the three teens and went for the monkey. The Yono easily subdued them as well.

“Yono tires of your games,” he said, “Enough!” the Yono began to glow and suddenly everyone was stunned and unable to move from their spots.

With no more foreseen obstacles the Yono approached the form of Monkey Fist. He reached out a hand to grab the former lord, only to be stopped and shocked. With a muttered growl the Yono shook off the damage done to his hand reached out again. There was another shock and for a brief moment an invisible force field rippled around the man before disappearing once more.

“Why isn’t it working?” Kim whispered to the others.

“There is some sort of force protecting Monkey Fist,” Yori guessed, “One the Yono cannot break.”

The Yono was growing angrier and angrier with each failed attempt to recover the anchor and body that by right belonged to him. But he soon realized there would be no way to bypass this force that protected Monkey Fist and that he was wasting the waning powers he still had while here.

“Very well,” the Yono said, apparently accepting this fate, “if Yono cannot have this body, then he will make sure that is worthless to all!” his eyes turned red as they crackled with what remained of his power. The mark on Monkey Fist’s hand began to glow, vanishing before reappearing in two smaller forms over his closed eyes. The mark faded over them and the Yono stopped glowing.

“Yono has finished here. And while he may not be back for a while, rest assured that there is always another disciple willing to follow the path of the Yono!” with a flash of red he was gone, and all that remained was Monkey Fist himself.

Everyone, now able to move again, raced over to the Monkey Man and watched as his chest rose up and down as he breathed. He was, by some miracle or curse, alive. And they anxiously awaited to see what would happen when he woke up.

They didn’t have to wait long. Mere moments later his face scrunched up the way it does when one returns to the waking world. His furred hands raised to his eyes and he rubbed at them. Just as slowly, or so it seemed to the onlookers, he raised himself into a sitting position.

“Oh Monty!” DNAmy cried rapturously, “You’re okay!” she launched herself at him, determined to squeeze him tight and never let go.

He apparently didn’t need his eyes open to recognize her, and with a simian shriek he leapt out of the way, landing ironically enough behind Team Possible and using them as a shield.

“No! Keep her away from me!” he half-yelled, half-begged.

“Dude chill with the Monkey antics,” Ron said even as his former foe cowered behind him, “You just woke up from being a statue and that’s what you’re gonna worry about?”

“I may not, nor wish to, know how I am back; just being back is good enough for me,” Fist replied.

“Well let’s settle down now,” Drakken cut in, pushing his way toward the simian man, “We’ll still need to check you over, make sure everything’s alright,” he grabbed hold of Monkey Fist’s arm and placed him back on the lab table, poking and prodding, “Well, everything seems to be in working order. That means I’m off the hook! Thank evil for that!”

“Off the hook?” Kim questioned, “For what?”

“It’s a villain thing, you wouldn’t understand,” Drakken brushed her off, “Now let’s try readjusting you to sight, hm? Open your eyes, slowly now.”

With his back to the others Monkey Fist did as Drakken asked, “Did you turn off the lights or something?” he asked, “I can’t see a bloody thing.”

Drakken blanched, presumably as soon as Fist’s eyes were completely open, “Oh dear,” he said.

“What?” the other man asked.

“This is not good,” Drakken continued, more to himself than anything, “But the serum was perfect, I don’t understand…”

“Don’t understand what?” Monkey Fist pressed. He turned around, somehow ending up facing the others, “Can someone tell me what he’s blathering on about? And perhaps turn on a light? It’s as dark as pitch in here!”

The jaws of all the others present collectively dropped. There would be no turning on of a light for Monkey Fist they realized as they took in the once Sea-blue eyes that were now fogged over and almost milky in color. Monkey Fist was blind.

“What the what?” Ron said.

“I, I,” Kim stuttered.

Yori said nothing, merely raising both her hands to cover her mouth.

“Yori?” Kim turned to the ninja, “A little explanation here?”

“I, I cannot,” Yori said, “This, this is unheard of.”

“Come on, there has to be some explanation for why Monkey Fist is, is…”

“Is what?” The simian man in question asked, “Will someone tell me what’s going on here?”

“Your friends, they managed to free you from the Yono’s grasp,” Yori explained, “But not entirely. Monkey Fist, it would appear that you are now blind.”

“Blind?” he repeated hollowly after a terse moment of silence as the news sunk in, “I’m… blind?”

“Yes,” Yori answered, “I wish I could tell you more, but there has never been tale of anything like this. Not to my knowledge at least.”

“Oh come on,” Ron said, “There must be someone who knows something, right?”

“Hmm,” Yori replied, “Perhaps…” she turned her attention to Monkey Fist once more, “If you would not mind, we would like to take you with us.”

“What!” DNAmy yelled, “I knew it! I just knew you were trying to take my Monty away from me! Well you can’t have him! He’s mine!”

“DNAmy-san,” Yori said, even as Monkey Fist leapt behind them again, “I have no designs on Monkey Fist other than to help him understand what has happened to him. And if he agrees, it would be our honor to escort him to someone who might know.”

“Anything to get me out of here and away from her,” Monkey Fist shuddered.

“Oh no you don’t!” the geneticist countered, “Wherever Monty goes, I go!”

“I am afraid not,” Yori replied, “I do not know how you were able to obtain the location of Sensei, but where we are going is not one for –and I apologize for saying this- outsiders.”

“But the redhead and the blondie get to go?”

“Stoppable-san is most welcomed where we are headed, as is Kim Possible. You they will not trust, and likewise will not allow to stay.”

“No,” the older woman pouted, “I can fix Monty. I can give him new eyes, monkey eyes! Oh, wouldn’t that be great sweet’ums?”

“Oh good heavens no!” Monkey Fist nearly shouted, still cowering behind the three teens.

“DNAmy-san,” Yori continued to gently press, “I fear that this sort of affliction is not one that a new set of eyes or any science can cure. We need to take him to see Master Sensei, surely he will know what to do.”

“I don’t want to!” Amy replied childishly, even going so far as to purse her lips into a pout.

“Oh for evil’s sake woman! Just go home and wait,” Monkey Fist said exasperatedly, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

One could just see the proverbial hearts in her eyes, “Oh. Anything for you Monty puddin’ and pie!” she giggled.

“Domo,” Yori said, bowing as Kim and Ron took hold of the Monkey lord’s arms and escorted him out of the lair.

“Just out of curiosity,” Fist remarked, “where _are_ we going?”

“To the one person who might have some insight on the matter,” Yori replied, “Master Sensei.”

“Badical!” Ron fist-pumped, “We’re headed for Japan!”

KP

“Hmm…” Sensei said as he examined the Monkey lord that had been brought before him. There was no mark left behind that told of the Yono’s interference; but the blindness –and the slight trace of ancient and dark power left behind- according to the three who had witnessed everything, was definitely his work, “This is most unusual,” he finally remarked.

“So you can’t give us any info?” Kim asked, “Bummer.”

“I cannot give you precisely what you seek,” Sensei answered, “It is unheard of for the Yono to let someone out of the contract they’ve made, however reluctantly he may have done so.”

“Great,” Fist grumbled, “All this way for nothing,” he scratched at his chest, which had begun to itch fiercely.

“Dude, what’s the deal with you?” Ron asked, “You got fleas or something?”

“Me have fleas?” Fist said affrontedly, “Why I never. I don’t have fleas, but I feel as though I’ve been branded with something and the wound has scabbed over.”

Sensei raised a brow and drew the former adversary to the side, “Wait a moment,” he told the trio. A few seconds later this was followed by an, “Oh my, this I was not expecting.”

“What?” the three young adults raced over to see what Sensei had found. Monkey Fist’s robes had been drawn open, and there emblazoned on his chest in the exact place where DNAmy had placed it, was the emblem of the monkeys and the flower.

Yori gasped, Kim and Ron merely looked on in confusion.

“I don’t get it,” Ron said, “He’s got a scar of monkeys and a flower on his chest, what does that have to do with anything.”

“Ron!” Kim hissed.

“What?”

“Stoppable-san,” Sensei began, “This is no ordinary mark that has been given to Monkey Fist.”

“It is the mark of the Amulet of Toshimiru himself,” Yori added.

“Toshimiru,” Ron said, “Why do I feel like I should know that name?”

“Because, you ignorant buffoon,” Monkey Fist chastised him, “You’re standing in the school he carved out of the mountain.”

“Wait what?”

“It is as he says Stoppable-san,” Sensei said, “Toshimiru-sama is the one who first wielded the Lotus Blade and Mystical Monkey Power, and with them he carved this school out of the mountain on which it stands.”

“Legend says that upon his breastplate he wore his family emblem,” Yori continued, pointing to the mark on Monkey Fist’s chest, “And that it came to be blessed by the gods. Whomever wears the amulet will be protected from evil spirits and blessed with favorable fortune.”

“So if I fought you right now you wouldn’t be here,” Monkey Fist added, “Not that I can at the moment, but the principle still stands.”

“Dude, stop moping,” Ron fired back, “You’re lucky to be alive right now.”

“Wrong,” Monkey Fist countered, folding his arms and almost pouting, “I am lucky to exist right now, but at the moment I am not living.”

“What do you mean by that?” Ron questioned going so far as to tilt his head in confusion, “You’re not stone anymore, I’d call that being alive.”

“True Stoppable-san,” Sensei agreed, “But there is a difference between living and being.”

“What?” Ron replied, “I don’t understand. He’s standing right here in front of me: not stone.”

“What Sensei means, Stoppable-san, is that Monkey Fist cannot go on the way he once has,” Yori told him, “His way of life has been possibly irreversibly affected.”

“But he’s still alive,” Ron felt the need to continuously point out.

“True. However, it is not the life he has once known. Monkey Fist, despite his less than honorable path, is still a warrior of the highest caliber. But now he cannot be as he once was.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, “I mean, sure he’s blind but he can still…” Ron trailed off as he really looked at the Monkey lord, “Oh. _Oh_!” he said with realization. If Monkey Fist was blind, he couldn’t fight the way he was trained, the way he was used to. And that was even if he could fight at all.

“Took you long enough,” Monkey Fist scoffed.

“Indeed,” Sensei hummed.

“Wait, so that’s what the Yono meant when he said if he couldn’t have the body he’d make it useless to everyone else?” Kim asked, “I don’t entirely get it.”

“By blinding Monkey Fist,” Yori explained, “The Yono has effectively rendered him inept at his fighting style for the time being. This will, though I am certain his lordship will not wish to hear it, render him as weak as a newborn.”

“You just _had_ to say that, didn’t you?” Monkey Fist half-groaned, half-whined, “As if my situation wasn’t miserable enough.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ron said, attempting to slow down the conversation, “I’ve seen my fair share of kung fu and ninja movies, and there’s almost always some blind master of whatever martial arts the film’s about.”

“Yeah,” Rufus chittered, “Blind ninja. Uh-huh,”

“That may be true Stoppable-san,” Sensei agreed, “But oftentimes these movies do not reflect real life. Legend has it that there have indeed been some blind martial arts masters. Traditionally, however, these masters were blind from birth and knew how to fight without their vision. In addition, none of their fighting styles fell into the vein of Tai Shing Pek Kwar. Monkey Fist’s style of fighting is much in line with the creatures he so desires to emulate, and unfortunately for him it relies heavily on sight to be effective.”

“What?” Kim and Ron nearly gasped.

“A blind young simian will oftentimes be left to die in the wilderness,” Sensei continued, “They cannot fend for themselves and they are a liability to the tribe. It is the way the simian species that we know today has operated for eons: survival of the fittest. The Yono recognized that same mentality within Monkey Fist and so decided to make him like a weak newborn in order to strike him from the earth.”

“Is there really a need to proclaim the fact that I am essentially an easy kill to my mortal enemies?” Monkey Fist inquired.

Sensei made a sound that almost sounded like laughter, “Perhaps not, but they would have hounded you until they received the answers they sought. Come now; the sun has long finished its trek across the sky, and the mountain is quite dangerous at night. It will be our honor to have you stay with us this eve.”

“Can’t I simply return to my castle?” Monkey Fist nearly whined.

“Not this day Monkey Fist,” Yori replied, “For the time being you must stay with us, we do not know if the Yono will return so it will be safer for you here.”

“Ah yes, I’m so sure,” he drawled dryly, “It’s safest to stay at the school full of highly trained warriors who would love to see me utterly destroyed. That makes logical sense.”

“Dude, free room and board for the night. Don’t knock it just yet,” Ron elbowed him.

Monkey Fist grumbled a little more but ultimately realized that there was nothing he could do, “Domo arigato,” he said reluctantly, bowing as etiquette dictated.

“You are most welcome,” Sensei replied, “Yori, escort our guests to their rooms.”

“As you wish, Sensei,” Yori bowed in deference, “This way,” she said gesturing to Kim and Ron before taking the Monkey King’s arm.

KP

The sound of a twig snapping made him twitch and brought him back to reality. Monkey Fist strained to hear anything else, even as he began to stretch his limbs from the lotus position he’d held them in for so long. He never was able to sleep the first night when he was somewhere new, and usually ended up meditating to afford his body some sort of respite. But now he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Something was amiss, and now more than ever since he had awoken he wished for his sight. It might not have been as useful as during the day, but at least he would be able to see if a possible attacker was going to pull a weapon on him. Monkey senses and instinct he may have still had, but there was still some adjustment going on thanks to only now being blind.

Cautiously he leaned forward, crawling on his hands and knees in an attempt to locate the door to his quarters. He knew he should have knocked on the wall he’d been closest to, as instructed in the event he needed to go somewhere, but there was no time. He had just reached the handle to the sliding paper door when he felt it. There was another presence in the room with him, not only that; it was one that wished him harm. He turned to face it head on, refusing to let this blindness, this _handicap_ as he saw it turn him into a coward.

“At last,” whispered a voice that Monkey Fist couldn’t quite place at the moment, “You are here, and you are defenseless. With your death I will regain the honor I have lost. Monkey Fist,” the voice said ominously, “Prepare to meet your doom.”

There was a rustling of cloth and Monkey Fist knew there had to be some sort of weapon in his opponent’s hands. And now as much as he was loathe to do it, he let out a simian shriek to alert the others. Needing help from anyone was normally a self-inflicted wound to his pride, –except when he was trying to escape from DNAmy- but he could not fight against a weapon he could not see. The door now behind him was thrown open, someone had heard him, if not the entire school.

“Monkey Fist,” came the voice, it was the ninja girl. What was her name again? Ah yes, Yori, “Are you al-” she stopped short, presumably upon seeing who else was in the room with him, “Fukushima-san?” she gasped. Ah, he should have known, “What are you doing?”

“Reclaiming the honor I lost at the hands of this monster,” Fukushima replied, “And I will destroy any who get in my way.”

“Fukushima-san,” the ninja said, “I will not allow you to harm Monkey Fist.”

“Why would you wish to stop me?” Fukushima asked, “With him gone not only will my honor be restored, but all threats to Yamanouchi will cease. It is as the Outsider says, a “win-win” situation.”

“Be that as it may,” Yori parried, “Monkey Fist has not done me wrong this day. And even if he had, it is most dishonorable to attack one who cannot defend themselves.”

“You’ve seen him fight,” Fukushima argued, “He is not defenseless.”

“He is blind,” Yori replied, “He cannot see the knives you wield. It is a dishonorable battle you wish to wage against him, and I will not allow it to happen,” there came a rustling from behind him. Perhaps the ninja girl had drawn those war fans she was so fond of carrying around.

“Very well,” Fukushima relented, voice cold and devoid of emotion, “Then you will die alongside him.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And epic fight that cannot be seen because the only witness is blind, commence!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tessen are a type of japanese war fan, for those of who who've seen Code Lyoko, Yumi's weapon while virtualized and there is evidence in the show that Yori uses them, think Gorilla Fist

Monkey Fist felt the air charge with tension. The battle was on. Yori and Fukushima stared each other down, daring their opponent to make the first move. Monkey Fist knew he should have moved, should have cleared the path for the young woman who, much to the pain of his ego, was defending him but he couldn’t find the strength within himself to do it.

He felt the reactions within the room. Someone had moved and now the fight had officially commenced. He felt Yori’s presence move in front of him, ready at least, if not eager to defend. A breeze rushed past him as Yori lunged for the former colleague. There was a clash, likely Fukushima’s knives against Yori’s Tessen. The scuffle turned into an all-out brawl, with some of their attacks coming a little too close for comfort. Surprised that no one else had yet intruded, but realizing that the school needed to be alerted Monkey Fist did something he’d never thought he would want to do. He let out another simian shriek, hoping that Kim Possible and her buffoon of a boyfriend would come to the ninja’s aid, or at the very least would alert the rest of the school that something was wrong.

He didn’t have to wait. Mere moments later there came the stumbling of more than a few sets of footsteps and suddenly he sensed more people at the doorway.

“Monkey Fist,” that was Kim Possible, “What’s the sit- oh,” she said as she took in the battle before her.

“Yo, I heard Monkey Man yell and I, whoa!” ah, and there was the bumbling buffoon who somehow had ended up with what was rightfully his, “Yori!” he cried out, seemingly concerned for the ninja’s sake.

The call of her name broke both combatants out from the fighting mentality. They stopped, glanced at each other, and then Fukushima darted out the window he had entered from: vowing vengeance upon Monkey Fist for his lost honor and Stoppable simply for being the Outsider.

Monkey Fist, from his position on the floor, began feeling around for someone he could use to get himself to his feet without falling flat on his face. He felt a hand at his cheek and a small weight on one of his shoulders. It traveled down his arm until it reached his own hand and grasped it. The Monkey Lord took this to mean that this person wished to help him stand. The hand that held his own was delicate, so Stoppable was out, but he was still a little ways from Kimberly so that ruled her out as well. That meant it must have been Yori who had reached for him. Monkey Fist didn’t know how to feel about that.

As soon as she was sure the Monkey Man was steady on his feet Yori let go of him and bowed deeply to all involved.

“I offer my sincerest apologies,” She began, refusing to look any of them in the eye, “But none of us knew Fukushima-san was still on this mountain. That was a grave error on our part,”

“I’ll say,” Monkey Fist scoffed derisively.

Yori chose to ignore his comment, “We should have put more care into making sure Fukushima-san had indeed left Yamanouchi, instead of merely assuming. I have just remembered that Fukushima-san’s skills were centered mostly in stealth and evasion. Add in the fact that many of us were not looking for him, and..” she bent low at the waist, one hand placed atop the other as they covered her knees, “Please forgive my error.”

“Yori,” came the voice of Sensei, “The error made was not made by you alone. I too should have considered the possibility that Fukushima had not left the mountain upon his expulsion,” the old man’s voice was tinged with regret and disappointment, “Lord Monkey Fist, on behalf of the Yamanouchi School as well as our graduates I offer my deepest apologies,” the wise old man bowed to the blind one.

“I will not say there is no need for an apology, for that would be a lie. Still, I suppose even you couldn’t have planned for every contingency,” the Monkey Lord replied, “This school is a secret after all,” Monkey Fist may not have liked either the Yamanouchi students or the person who led them, but damn it all if he didn’t begrudgingly respect Master Sensei.

“Even so,” Sensei said, “It is a great dishonor to us to have a guest of ours attacked by one of our former students. Unfortunately, until Fukushima is caught I cannot guarantee your safety here.”

“It’s quite alright,” Monkey Fist answered, “That simply means I can return home to my castle.”

“Lord Monkey Fist,” Yori gently cut in, “I do not think it wise to return home alone.”

“I wouldn’t child,” Fist replied, “I have my ninja monkeys and Bates, my valet.”

“Yori is right,” Sensei agreed, “It would be most unwise to go without an escort.”

“I do not need a babysitter,” Monkey Fist said curtly, “I am a grown man who can take care of himself. Anything I can’t do the monkeys can, and anything they cannot do Bates can.”

“Your monkeys may be trained in your arts,” Sensei allowed, “But do they know how to fight against an armed man with vengeance fueling his every action? Does your valet know how to combat a man trained in the ways of all the ancient masters that have passed through these walls?” at the British lord’s silence Sensei continued, “Lord Monkey Fist, please understand that I do not doubt the capabilities of you or those close to you. But this situation calls for one who can match Fukushima while keeping you safe as the Yamanouchi school searches for him. I am afraid I cannot allow you to leave without one of our students to help protect you.”

Monkey Fist thought it over, “Oh… alright,” he grumbled, “If I really have no other choice I suppose I can live with it.”

“Why can’t Kim and I do it?” Ron asked, “I mean, not that I’m volunteering or anything, but-”

“Stoppable-san,” Sensei cut in, “Your talents are needed to keep the rest of the world safe. We do not know how long it will take to apprehend Fukushima, and you and Kim Possible cannot be restricted to guard Monkey Fist when the rest of the world relies upon you as well.”

“He’s right Ron,” Kim said, “There are other people who need us, and what about school? We start in the fall, and who knows how long it will take until Monkey boy’s in the clear again.”

“Hey!” Monkey Fist exclaimed, clearly affronted at being thought a mere boy.

Ron sighed, “You’re right KP. Sensei, whatever you think then,”

Sensei stroked his beard a moment, “Very good Stoppable-san. Yori,” he turned to the ninja, “Until Fukushima is apprehended, will you take on the responsibility of keeping Monkey Fist safe?” the way it was phrased made it sound like a question, but the tone used to say it implied otherwise.

Yori looked shocked a moment, but nodded, “If that is your will Sensei?”

The school master nodded.

“Then it will be my honor to protect Monkey Fist.”

KP

With accommodations made Yori bid farewell to Kim, Ron, Rufus, and Sensei and headed out with Monkey Fist. The flight to England was more or less enjoyable, considering that though they were seated next to each other for ease of travel they had first class seats and slept through most of the flight, or at least meditated in Yori’s case. Bates, Monkey Fist’s human valet had come to pick them up from the airport in London and drive them back to Fiske castle up by Cambridge: apparently as Monkey Fist had learned from a few previous occasions not to let the Monkey drive.

“And who might this be milord,” Bates asked, glancing at Yori from the rearview mirror.

“This is Yori,” Monkey Fist responded lamely, “She’s, she’s,”

“Here to protect your master,” Yori answered candidly.

“Oh really?” the valet pressed, “And what would his lordship need your help protecting from? He’s quite a capable warrior.”

“It seems that during one of his travels he made a powerful enemy. When my,” she paused, “colleagues found out I was sent to help protect him as he is in a rather,” again she paused, this time looking for the right word so as not to injure his lordship’s ego, “delicate situation.”

“Oh Monkey Spirits,” Monkey Fist swore, “You make it sound as though I am a young bride who’s found out she’s increasing. If you must know Bates, I’m blind,” it wasn’t as though it had been announced yet, but in order to evade issue as well as protect his eyes they had placed a pair of dark glasses on his face.

“Blind? How did that happen milord?”

“I was cursed. Mishandling of an ancient artifact and all that rot.”

“Milord? Mishandle an ancient artifact?” Bates raised a skeptical brow, not that his master could see it.

“Drop the subject Bates,” the simian man warned.

“Of course milord,” Bates replied, returning his attention to the road.

KP

Upon arriving at the castle Yori held her breath in awe. The stone edifice cut an imposing figure against the silvery sky and lowly fogged grounds. Bates chuckled at her reaction,

“Ah yes, I suppose it is rather magnificent if you haven’t seen it before,” he told her.

Yori blushed and quickly cast her gaze at the dirt before her, “My, my apologies,” she said quietly, “I did not intend to make a spectacle of myself.”

“You’re not the first lass,” the man chuckled, “And I doubt you’ll be the last. Come on what, let’s get your things inside and get you settled.”

Yori picked up her few bags and headed inside, Bates guiding Monkey Fist in. the interior of the castle was just as magnificent as the exterior. The decoration matching the composition of the walls in a classic, yet modernized way that allowed it to fit both the time period it stood for and the one it stood in. Monkey Fist himself stood waiting at the base to the grand staircase in the main foyer, one hand gripping the rail’s pillar. He looked impatient.

“Well hurry it along Bates, I can’t stand here all day.”

“Of course milord,” Bates replied, “Shall I set this young lady up in the guest wing?”

“I am afraid that would be counterproductive to keeping your master safe,” Yori replied, “I need not share a room with him, but I must remain close by in case anything should happen.”

Bates raised a curious brow at the young woman but remained silent.

“Bates,” Monkey Fist warned, “I know you’re giving either her or me _that look_ and I’ll tell you know it is all completely professional.”

“Didn’t you say that with the lady who modified your hands and feet?”

The British lord visibly shuddered, “DNAmy is an absolute fruitcake and I’ll thank you not to mention her around me.”

“As you wish milord, where shall I have her placed then?”

“A few rooms down from mine should be close, yet far enough,” Monkey Fist replied, “Come on now, I have other things to attend to.”

Without any help, he grabbed hold of the railing and cautiously made his own way up the steps. However, when he reached the landing of the floor they needed to be on he stopped, holding the rail with a death grip so as not to fall. Yori and Bates quickly followed up and Bates lead Yori to her room.

“It needs to be aired out a little,” Monkey Fist told her, though not at all sorry for the inconvenience, “Simply leave your bags here and find some way to occupy your time while Bates readies the linens and whatnot. After, of course, he deposits me in the library.”

Yori bowed, even though she knew he couldn’t see it, “Domo your lordship.”

“I take it the accommodations will suit you well enough?”

“In truth, I have not seen a room this big before in my entire life.”

“For the meantime you might as well get used to it. After all, if Fukushima is as skilled at stealth and evasion as you say you’re going to be here a while. Bates,” he said.

“Yes milord,”

“To the library. Once you’ve done that get Miss Yori’s room prepared for her.”

“Of course milord, would you be likin’ a spot of tea while you relax?”

“If I do I’ll send a monkey to let you know.”

“Of course milord, very good,” the valet took the man’s hand and escorted him out of sight, leaving Yori to further explore the room she would be occupying for the foreseeable future.

The room was more like a suite at one of the hotels she had stayed at the time she had recruited Stoppable-san to help search for Sensei, only a great deal larger. There seemed to be a few different rooms connected to this one, and this one was only a parlor or sitting room. She explored the door to the right, it showcased a remodeled bathroom with a sunken tub. How luxurious. Yori backed out and tried the one at the far side from the entrance.

This led into her bedchamber, a large four-poster bed set on a raised dais dominated the room. Bates had presumably already been in here as the windows were opened. On either side of the walls from the entrance door there were two separate doors. Yori tried the right one first, it led to a huge walk-in closet. She placed her bags inside and closed the door over again. That left the left door. When it opened she saw another bedroom, this one decked in more masculine colors: darker tones and woods whereas the one she was utilizing looked more like it had been made for a woman.

A sense of foreboding came over the young ninja. The feeling that this was a space she was not supposed to be in grew until she found herself fleeing out of the room and running smack into the valet who had returned with a fresh set of bedding.

“Oh, Bates-san,” Yori said normally to her great relief, “I did not realize you would be back so soon.”

“Ran into the Master’s Monkeys. They took him the rest of the journey,” the man replied, “Miss? You look a little spooked, what’s wrong?”

“I, um, it is nothing,” Yori answered, “But perhaps you could tell me, where does that door lead?” she pointed to the one behind her.

“That’s the Master’s bedchamber what lies behind that door miss,” Bates told her stoically, “These here are the Mistress’ chambers from back in the day.”

“Couples slept in separate rooms?” Yori questioned.

“One commonality of the world,” Bates said, “is that they all seemed to treat women like property to be bought and sold at one point or another. Marriages for the longest time were business deals carried out for the sake of society. Husbands and wives only shared a bed to consummate and hopefully produce an heir. After that they went their separate ways, usually with their separate lovers.”

“I see,” Yori replied quietly, “And why am I in these chamber if your master requested I be housed a few rooms down?”

“If anything happens to him during the night you have the most direct route don’t you think?” Bates smiled at her as he began dressing down the bed.

Yori looked back at the door. If, and this was a big if, Fukushima had followed them here that door would come in quite handy. Yori smiled at the valet, “Yes, I believe I will.”

KP

Leaving Bates to ready her room for her living Yori decided to explore the rest of the castle. There was so much here to take in, so much history. Hmm, despite claims to the contrary Monkey Fist could not have spent the entire family fortune on his genetic enhancements because there was a fortune right here. If he needed money, which was likely since he had many mouths to feed and expeditions to fund he would have had to sell these things. Yet there was no place that suggested that something was once there that was not now.

Yori decided that his lordship’s personal finances were of no concern to her anyways and moved on. There was a simian cry of alarm and Yori immediately drew out her Tessen, unable to believe that Fukushima if he had been able to follow them had attacked so soon. This notion was quickly derailed, however, upon seeing a small monkey clad in ninja garb attempting to right the balance of a full cup of tea on its saucer. Realizing that there was no danger, not from Fukushima at least, Yori put her weapons away and helped to steady the ape.

“My apologies,” she said softly as she couched down to help, “I am sorry for running into you.”

The monkey let out a small chatter, seemingly surprised that this human was apologizing to it. Almost never had it been treated that way by any human except its master, and though its life had been short by comparison it had met many, many humans.

“Are you alright?” Yori asked, not feeling the least bit foolish for conversing with a monkey.

The monkey nodded, grip tightening on it saucer.

“I have an idea,” Yori said, “I am attempting to explore the castle. Why don’t I help you take this tea to your master?” she put her hands out, palms up so the monkey could see she meant it no harm.

The monkey looked at her for a moment or two, glancing back and forth between her hands and her face. Finally, it placed the cup in her hands, carefully so as not to spill a drop of the master’s beloved drink.

“Domo,” Yori said, bowing her head before straightening up. The monkey took this as a sign to clamber up and around her body, coming to rest on her right shoulder.

Yori laughed, “I see, you are to be my guide then. It would be my honor to have you direct me. Now, which way should I go from here?”

With a series of gestures and sounds the monkey led her to the enormous library where Monkey Fist had ordered to be deposited by the valet some time earlier. However, when Yori looked around inside she saw nothing and no one. The place was empty. She turned to the monkey on her shoulder,

“Where is your master?”

The monkey made a series of grunts, chatters, and squeaks as though it were responding, but Yori did not know how to speak simian and did not understand. Realizing this, the monkey leaped off her shoulder and scrambled over to the enormous mantle, chattering in a way that Yori took to mean she should follow. As she approached the fireplace, the monkey pulled on a certain branch of the candelabra. Rather than the whole thing toppling over, as Yori had assumed it would, the arm bent and the mantle began to move: revealing a secret passage. And from the corridor she heard the sounds of monkeys.

The monkey who had guided her leaped off the mantle and alighted on her shoulder with incredible grace, so much that she almost didn’t feel it land. Yori glanced at the monkey a moment and then back to the corridor. The monkey made a softer noise, trying to tell her to go on. Yori squared herself and took the first step.

What she entered into was unlike anything she could have ever imagined the Monkey Man possessing. There was a room set back from this one that could be a dojo and a hidden library, filled with scrolls of all sizes and content. They were placed in a traditional scroll bookshelf, with gold plates inscribed with kanji giving a commonality to them. Strange, simian themed art along with those in the eastern tradition covered the walls, and there were all sorts of artifacts and relics displayed.

Yori felt her jaw dropped. She had been aware that Monkey Fist had an obsession with all things simian and had aspired to be the Ultimate Monkey Master because it was as close as he would ever be willing to get to becoming a monkey himself, but she had never realized just how deeply this obsession had spiraled and consumed him. The monkey on her shoulder urged her to move closer, toward the sounds of the others.

Cautiously she approached the very back room. Inside it she saw Monkey Fist sitting in a full lotus position and meditating, other monkey in similar stances sitting around him. Still others practicing their arts and that was where the noises were coming from. The monkey on Yori’s shoulder started chattering, hopping down and skittering towards its master. It pulled on his pant leg.

“About time you got here,” he grumbled, “and I suppose my tea is lukewarm now. Just brilliant,” he snapped open his eyes, and Yori felt herself stiffen at the sight of the clouded eyes she once saw as filled with life: a dark life to be sure but a life all the same.

Slowly, almost hesitantly she stepped towards him and placed the cup and saucer on the floor before him. She heard him sniff.

“What is the ninja girl doing here?” he demanded of the monkey who’d led her there, “No one else is allowed within my private sanctum, haven’t I told you that before?”

The monkey chittered in answer.

“I don’t care that she apologized! This place needs to remain a secret from my enemies, and when this whole ordeal is over that’s exactly what she’ll be again.”

“I assure you Monkey Fist,” Yori attempted to divert the lord’s ire away from the poor creature, “I asked to carry the tea to you in order to attempt to learn my way around the castle. Any information I learn here is to be kept between the two of us unless your life is in great danger and it would save you. That is my oath of honor.”

The monkey chattered and squeaked again, pointing at Yori and jumping.

Yori tilted her head to the side, “Um…”

“Hmph,” Monkey Fist scoffed, “It would appear she’s taken a liking to you.”

“She?”

“Chippy,” he gestured in the general direction of where the monkey, where Chippy rather, was standing, “Seems to have a liking for do gooders. A similar thing happened with Stoppable.”

Yori brightened, “She is familiar with Stoppable-san?”

“He mistook her for a simianized Kim Possible and decided to be a good friend to her. She took a shine to the miserable fool and forsake her training. She actually dared to attack me.”

“Typically, wouldn’t a villain like yourself um,” she struggled to say the words aloud, “ _dispose_ of a disobedient minion?”

“Typically,” Monkey Fist answered, “but Chippy’s more than a mere minion, they all are. Minions are disposable: trained monkey ninjas are not. The worst I would have had the heart to have done was send her off to a zoo, neglecting to inform them of her unique abilities. Imagine the trouble that could have stirred up; they’d have sent her back just as quickly as I sent her off. Better to have her reprogrammed and retrained, not that the former seems to have worked,” he remarked.

Yori put a hand to her mouth to cover her smile, only belatedly realizing she didn’t need to do so. Chippy raced from the group of other monkeys and decided to perch on her shoulder once more.

“So,” Monkey Fist said after a moment of rather amicable quiet, “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Until Fukushima-san is captured or you regain your sight, whichever comes first.”

“That wasn’t what I meant but please: go on,” he said, wishing for her to elaborate, “In what realm of possibility do you think my sight would return before your former friend was captured, if it returns at all?”

“This is unexplored territory for all involved Lord Monkey Fist. Is it so wrong to remain hopeful that your sight will return?”

“No, I suppose not; but I’m British, young lady. Cynicism is second nature to us.”

“Ah,” the conversation petered out after that and Yori decided to take in the ambiance of the rest of the dojo. Despite the obvious obsession, the artworks and décor seemed to have been chosen with great care, leading her to believe Monkey Fist himself had been behind it. And overall, the ambience was conducive to the relaxed yet focused mentality needed for proper meditation.

“What are you doing now?”

“I was admiring what you have done with this space,” Yori replied, “It is really quite impressive.”

“Hah, impressive,” the lord let out a bitter laugh, “And I suppose that’s your kindest way of saying obsessive, right?”

“What were you doing here your lordship?” Yori countered, evading the question.

“Attempting to find some inner peace,” Monkey Fist responded, “Probably a bad idea all things considered…”

“Considering what, exactly?”

“That room you passed through to get here you saw my little library. You saw what was in it, did you not?” she did not respond but he continued anyways, “I attempted to find inner peace surrounded by fodder for countless expeditions, and my wanderlust is proving slightly more difficult to overcome than I thought.”

“I did not realize you loved travel so much,” Yori said.

“I didn’t either, not until I lost the ability to do so,” he replied, “And I’m sure that in the strictest confidence I can tell you that while nearly all my expeditions had the collection of some simian artifact that would help increase my own power, I don’t deny that locating the target was part of the fun most of the time. Strange isn’t it? That one always ends up wishing for the hassles once they’re gone.”

“Not that I would allow you to do so, but why not start preparing for your next expedition?”

“Because, all the information for my expeditions are contained within those ancient scrolls. The monkeys cannot read, period. Bates cannot read any form of the Japanese written language. And while you may or may not have such an ability, I’m fairly certain you would either not tell me what was written or deceive me about the contents,” he had turned his head in the direction he had heard her speak from and raised a brow at her.

“I would most likely not tell you anything,” Yori replied honestly, “I find it is dishonorable to lie.”

“Except when it comes to protecting that precious school of yours,” Monkey Fist pointed out.

“I would not consider that lying,” Yori parried, “We only asked Stoppable-san not to divulge the details of what happened during his time at Yamanouchi.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie.”

“Perhaps, but-” Yori was cut off when Chippy and the other monkeys started to make noise, “What is it?”

“They hear Bates calling for me,” slowly he unfurled from his lotus position and stumbled to his feet, struggling to maintain his balance, “Since you’re here, you could help escort me to my valet.”

Yori went to him and took hold of his arm. Carefully she led him back to the castle’s library and out into the corridor, Chippy still on her shoulder. Bates suddenly came rushing to meet them.

“Milord,” he said, slightly out of breath, “I’ve been calling for you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Monkey Fist said dryly, “Now what’s all the fuss about?”

“She’s here sir, she’s here!”

“Who’s here Bates?” the nobleman seemed to be getting irritated with his valet.

“Your mother, sir,”

“My Mother?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mumsy Dearest's come home to play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mother introduced and the idea that she is related to Monkey Fist is taken from Deliverer's Aftermath series, just to reiterate and tell you that if you like this story you should check out theirs

“What is my mother doing here Bates?” Monkey Fist hissed. Yori winced at the malice in his tone, clearly there was some bad blood between the two.

“She comes once every month to see if you’ve returned from any of your expeditions. Usually you’re in residence either a few days before or after she’s come before you’re off on your next adventure, sir. But now that she knows you’re in residence she wishes to take afternoon tea with you in the sitting room.”

“No,” Monkey Fist said firmly.

“But sir-”

“I said no, Bates. Yori take me back to my dojo, I need to meditate again.”

“Meditation, ha! You always had some strange habits Montgomery. I would have thought having me for your mother would have rectified that odd obsession of yours and nipped it in the bud. Then again, you always were my most problematic child, weren’t you?” a shrill voice sounded from off to their left.

Yori saw that Monkey Fist’s mother -for really who else could she be? -  dressed entirely in purple and pink from her dress to her shawl to her hat, with dark, stern looking eyes and a full head of gray hair pulled back and making her stern face look even more austere. The old woman’s eyes landed on Yori.

“And who might this young lady be?” she asked accusingly, “Monty, surely you’d tell your own mother when you found someone to bring home, wouldn’t you?”

Monkey Fist, who had closed his eyes in exasperation upon hearing her, pinched the bridge of his nose with the arm that wasn’t currently draped around his human support beam, “Mother I can assure you that should I have ever taken an interest in the opposite sex, you would be the first to know. As it is however,”

“And you would be ashamed to tell your mother if it was a man you had fallen for?”

He felt heat rush to his face, “Mother!” he said sharply, “You’re not really asking me that, knowing whose son I am, are you?”

Mother Fiske’s face pinched, “Of course, how foolish to think that anyone with your father’s blood in them would ever fall for _anyone_. Only care about yourself, that’s what, and rot to everyone else! But surely I raised you better than that, I did do at least that much, didn’t I?”

Monkey Fist let out a resigned sigh, “Mother, I will not get into this argument with you yet again. I am a bit tired from traveling all the way from Japan today and would simply like to meditate,” turning to Yori he said, “My dojo, if you would.”

The older woman let out a huff, “Even at home you’re never around,” she sounded sad, and Yori’s heart went out to her.

“Lord M-” she caught herself, realizing that if anything his mother probably wouldn’t know about his self-chosen moniker and she suspected he’d want to keep it that way, “Your lordship,” she gently cajoled, “Surely one cup of tea with your mother would not be so bad. She has come all this way to see you,”

“Ha,” Monkey Fist scoffed, “Like it’s so far from Shireshimshire to here.”

“It is for an old woman like me,” Madam Fiske was quick to point out.

“Please your lordship, just a small amount of your time,” Yori said softly, “It will not kill you to spend some time with your mother.”

“You say that now,” he muttered. He sighed again, “Oh very well, but just one cup of tea. Bates,”

“Yes milord?” the valet replied.

“Prepare some tea for my mother and I and have it brought to the library,” the monkey lord ordered.

“And will Miss be joining you as well?” Bates inquired.

“Unfortunately,” Monkey Fist replied. He flinched as his mother smacked him on the hand with a ruler but forced himself not to scream, that would cause the monkeys to attack and while he may not have liked his mother most –nearly all of the time- that didn’t mean he wanted to see, hear rather, her ripped to shreds by defensive primates.

“Montgomery Fiske,” his mother reprimanded, “That is no way to speak about a young lady.”

“Yes mother,” he replied in a reluctant, yet saccharine tone. Done with that he said to Yori, “Take me into the library,” remembering his mother and therefore his manners he added, “please.”

Yori bowed her head, “Of course your lordship,” she looked to madam Fiske, “This way, if you please Madam.”

KP

Yori sat next to Monkey Fist on one settee –Chippy had rather reluctantly been sent away with the rest of the ninja monkeys- while his mother sat on the one across from them, separated only by a small wooden coffee table. Monkey Fist refused to face his mother, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“Montgomery, what on earth are you doing? You should know it’s very impolite not only to not look at your guests, but also not to even open your eyes in their presence.”

“Please madam,” Yori interceded before another fight could break out, “There is something we must share with you. You see, your son is, well…” she trailed off, unsure of how to broach this subject with the woman. She certainly didn’t seem like the type to believe in mystical monkey anything, “He has gone, blind. I’m afraid.”

“Blind?” the woman whispered. She gasped as Yori had Monkey Fist open his eyes in front of her, “How did this happen?”

“I am, unsure if you will believe me when I tell you,” Yori admitted to her.

“Let me guess, it has something to do with my son’s lifelong monkey obsession, right?” she asked, “All he would ever do as a young man was prattle on and on about some ridiculous legend or other concerning something called Mystical Monkey Power.”

“That would be right,” Yori replied, “In his quest to become the Ultimate Monkey Master, or one who has complete control over the Mystical Monkey Power he ended up traversing a dark path. He made a contract with a semi-deity called Yono the Destroyer. To be quite honest with you he is very lucky to be alive right now, even though he is blind,” Yori went on in detail about everything that had happened, leaving out the bit about getting his hands and feet genetically modified to become more monkey-like, Monkey Fist occasionally cut in to correct her on the information she didn’t have complete knowledge of.

After they were done his mother looked ashen and Yori was certain that she was glad her son couldn’t see her the way she was, “I, I see,” she said, reaching down to take a sip of the tea Bates had delivered in the interim, “I should have known,” she took a deep breath and shook herself off, “It’s no matter, he’s here and he’s more or less intact. I suppose that was more than I could have hoped for all things considered. But that still leaves a few questions unanswered,”

“Like what?” Yori asked.

“For starters, who are _you_ , young lady?”

“Ah,” Yori bolted to her feet, embarrassed at such an egregiously simple oversight, “Sumimasen,” she said lapsing back into Japanese in her haste, bowing deeply at the waist to Madam Fiske, “My name is Yori, madam.”

“Yori,” she repeated, “And would there be a last name to go with that?”

“Ah, n- no. I am afraid not,” Yori kept her gaze cast to the floor as she returned to her seat, “You see, I was raised at a school called Yamanouchi, where I was found abandoned at the front gate as an infant. The only knowledge I have of my parents is that they were likely alumni of the school, as there would be no other reason for them to leave me there,” What was left unsaid, yet picked up by the Monkey Man, was that the girl’s parents had to be alumni of the school since it was incredibly unlikely they would have known where it _was_ otherwise. But that wasn’t something she could say to his mother of all people.

“No last name, hm?” Mother Fiske replied, “Well if Monty had any brains in his head that would be something immediately rectified.”

Both the ninja and the monkey lord immediately pinked at the insinuation.

“Mother!” Monkey Fist exclaimed in outrage.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“First of all, I do not have any interest in another person of any gender _whatsoever_. Secondly, even if I did, I wouldn’t pursue her: she’s far too young!”

His mother muttered something that sounded a lot like, “That never stopped your father,” under her breath but quickly recovered, “Oh come Montgomery, you’re only thirty-three years old. And you, young Yori are I would guess to be about eighteen?”

“I have just turned nineteen, actually,” Yori answered, cheeks still flushed with embarrassed heat.

“Then it’s only a fourteen-year age difference,” his mother proclaimed, “It’s not that unusual, especially when you’re nobility.”

“For heaven’s sake mother,” Monkey Fist groaned, “Age difference notwithstanding, I would never be accepted as her partner, as a matter of fact if we were in her home country I’d most likely be arrested and labeled a pedophile.”

“Why?”

“In my home country of Japan,” Yori cut in to explain, “You are not considered a legal adult until the age of twenty. In that respect, your son has a point.”

“I see,” Madam Fiske sighed, “Well you’re here anyways. I suppose I should properly introduce myself after so much digression. I am the dowager Lady Fiske; however, you may address me by my maiden and preferred name: Nanny Maim.”

“Nanny Maim?” Yori questioned, she had briefly heard about this Nanny Maim from Kim and Ron, but she had never in a million years imagined that this was the woman who could have birthed Monkey Fist. Well, she supposed, it did make sense, in a weird villainous sort of way. They were both from the same country, had similar mannerisms, treated their minions the same way, and were (for villains anyway) polite to their adversaries. Of course, Nanny Maim seemed to uphold propriety more than her son, but there one had it.

“What a lovely name, Nanny Maim,” Yori quickly recovered, bowing in greeting to her.

“Child, I may be nobility by both blood and marriage but I was raised by and as an average British citizen all my life. There’s really no need to bow,”

“Mother, Yori is Japanese,” Monkey Fist informed her, “Bowing in greeting is a sign of respect.”

“A Japanese girl hm?” Maim shifted her attention back to her son, “I should have known a Japanese girl would be the one you’d bring home,” she didn’t sound angry or disappointed by that statement, but rather resigned.

“Madam, that is, Nanny Maim,” Yori corrected upon seeing the old woman’s eye, “As we have already explained, I am here solely to protect your son should Fukushima-san come after him here. I am acting as his bodyguard: no more, no less.”

“I’m certain,” she said, tone of voice indicating she didn’t believe either of them in the slightest.

“Mother, would you not,” Monkey Fist said exasperatedly, “For the love of all things ancient she’s nearly half my age!”

“Fourteen years was only half your age five years ago Monty,” Maim corrected, “Besides, they do say love knows no number.”

“Whether or that is true has no bearing on the matter,” Monkey Fist argued, “I love no one.”

“No _one_ perhaps,” Maim said stiffly, “But not no-thing. And I believe that the day you find someone who embodies all that you truly love, you would marry that person without a second thought.”

“What a charming little thought,” Monkey Fist’s voice was dripping with saccharine sweetness, “But it’s nothing more than a fantasy.”

“You know what? You’re absolutely right Monty,” Maim quipped, “Thinking on it I know exactly how it will go. You will be unable to rectify your feelings, deny them until you are driven mad with longing. Your attempts to court your love will only drive them away, leaving you with nothing except the crippling realization of how empty and lonely your life really is. And when that day comes, mine shall be a bitter laugh.”

“Please your lordship,” Yori cut in before the argument could escalate, seeing the look of fury the nobleman was shooting in the direction of his mother, “The tea is getting cold, would you like me to pour you a cup?”

“Very well,” he grumbled, taking the reprieve from his mother with unsaid gratitude. He heard the china clatter as Yori picked up the pot and poured for both his mother and him before pouring a cup for herself.

“Bates has set out some cream, sugar, milk, and honey your lordship,” Yori added, “Would you like any in your tea?”

“That depends on what kind of tea it is,” Monkey Fist replied, “If it’s traditional Chinese and Japanese tea I prefer to drink it black. However-”

“That would be preposterous,” Nanny Maim finished for him, “Bates knows I prefer Earl Grey.”

“Indeed, Yori hand me the cup a moment,” she carefully placed the teacup into his hands. The monkey lord slowly brought it up to his face and wafted the aroma of the tea, “It’s Earl Grey,” he said, “in which case, two lumps of sugar and a splash of cream please.”

“Of course,” Yori answered and there was a small moment of quiet as she located the proper ingredients, added them, and stirred, “And for you Nanny Maim?” Yori asked as she placed the cup into its saucer and handed it to Monkey Fist.

“Just a spoonful of honey in mine, dear girl,” Maim replied. Yori did as the old woman bade and handed her the tea, “What a nice, and obviously properly raised girl you’ve brought me Monty,” Maim said as she sipped her tea, “If nothing else you should keep her here for the sake of continuing the family name.”

Yori’s cheeks re-pinked and Monkey Fist nearly spat out his tea, “Mother,” he said indignantly, “No more of this frivolous, nonsensical chatter of yours. Yori is acting as my bodyguard until such time as I no longer need one. That is all this is, that is all this ever _will_ be. For the love of whatever deities exist above please, just let it go,” Maim frowned at her son but remained mum.

Now that her companions were settled Yori regarded her own cup of tea, she had never had Earl Grey before, was it best to try it with sweeteners like Monkey Fist and Nanny Maim did or simply drink it black?

“I see you’re attempting to figure out how to drink the Earl Grey,” Monkey Fist noted upon not hearing any drinking from over in the ninja’s direction.

“I must confess, I have never had it before,” Yori told him, “What is in it?”

“It’s a black tea base mixed with the ground rind of a bergamot orange. It’s similar in taste to liquid black licorice. Not very appealing, but until you know how sweet you like this tea just take it with a spoonful of honey,” Monkey Fist suggested, automatically falling into the bred-in act of gracious host. It was the sort of barely there glimpse into a life he could have, _should_ have had had he not let his obsession drown him.

“It always surprises me,” Yori murmured as she did as he had advised and took a sip. It was sweet, but not overly so, perhaps she would try another combination for a second cup.

“What does?” the monkey lord responded lowly, leaving his mother in her old age to struggle eavesdropping.

“I-” Yori stopped herself. It wasn’t something she had meant to say aloud, “It, it is nothing,” she whispered back. It wasn’t a lie, technically, as it was nothing really. Merely groundbreaking to her, not him.

Despite being blind his eyes bore into her. She could tell he didn’t believe her, “If you say so,” he shrugged, letting it go for the moment, “Mother, how long do you intend to stay here?”

“Until your sight comes back of course,” Maim replied, “Did you honestly think that I would stay away with you in this sort of condition?”

Monkey Fist grumbled something along the lines of, “I was hoping so,” under his breath: but what he said aloud to her was, “And where shall I have you put up then? I do not believe this castle has a dowager suite.”

“You could always put me in the mistress’ chambers,” Maim quipped, “I suppose they won’t otherwise get any use while you’re head of the family.”

Yori pinked, knowing that she should correct the assumption of Nanny Maim’s lodging but embarrassed at the insinuation she knew the old woman would make.

Unfortunately, Maim saw the flustered look on the girl’s face and far too quickly deduced the cause of it, “Surely you cannot be serious,” she turned to her son, “You say you will never hold any affection for any person male or female; yet you not only bring a girl to the ancestral home without notifying your mother, but you also put her in the lady’s chambers next to yours? Are you absolutely certain there’s nothing going on between you two?”

“Yori is not in the Lady’s chambers mother. I had Bates put her a few doors down from mine,” Monkey Fist replied.

“Um, actually,” Yori began, an unidentified emotion equal parts shame, guilt, and embarrassment rising within her, “Bates-san thought it would be best that I have immediate access to you in the case that Fukushima-san had followed us here and attacked you during the night again.”

“He did _what_?” Monkey Fist nearly screamed. In all honestly Yori would have felt a lot better if he had screamed. Instead his tone was frigid, his anger nearly palpable.

“Bates-san thought that it would be for the best,” Yori reiterated, “As someone new to this house I did not think it was my place to disagree,”

“It is when it creates situations like this one!” Monkey Fist argued, “Bates!” he bellowed.

“Yes, Milord?” Bates asked as he came in.

“Return me to my dojo this instant, you and I are going to have a little chat.”

If he hadn’t already been so pale Yori would have sworn she saw him blanch. To his credit though he did nothing more than that, if he had done it at all, “Of course Milord, right this way then,” he helped the nobleman to his feet and escorted him out of the room, leaving Yori alone to fence with Nanny Maim.

Yori stared at her hands, unable to figure out how to keep the conversation going without Monkey Fist there to act as both mediator and common denominator. She heard a sigh from across the table.

“Nanny Maim?” Yori asked, “Is something the matter? Would you like another cup of tea while we wait?”

“I would dear girl, but that’s not what my melancholy mood is about,” the old woman replied.

“Just some honey?” Yori asked, purposefully avoiding the subject in the case that Nanny Maim did not wish to speak about it with her. She handed Nanny her tea and said, “I must say that, for a villain, your son is very polite and chivalrous.”

“For a villain, hah,” Nanny Maim laughed, “Villainy always did seem destined to run in his blood, but I’ll take the compliment anyways. I’m glad at least some of what I taught him seemed to stick.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yori asked before she could stop herself.

“His father was, well his father,” Maim answered, “And my side of the family isn’t much better. You see, my father was an American from New York. A young adult in the height of prohibition era, no less. He decided to join the American mafia and make himself a very wealthy man. For nearly a decade and a half that’s exactly what he did.

“But when prohibition ended that was the end for bootlegged liquor in the States. Father decided to get out before he could be convicted of any crimes and moved to England where he met a young noble-lady with no dowry and fell in love instantly. With his wealth and good looks, he was able to marry her and they started a small family. I grew up as part of the small portion of nobility who knew the value of hard work, to the point where my noble title didn’t carry much weight anywhere; I was respected, but not feared.”

“Then, about the villainy?” Yori questioned.

“Growing up I was very much ashamed of my father’s past, though he was never convicted and never admitted as much, he had committed worse crimes than mere bootlegging. The American mafia practically requires it.”

“You think he,” Yori trailed off before drawing a finger across her throat.

“I knew he did, though I presume it was a great deal neater than mere throat-slashing. Regardless of the details, I was ashamed and I resolved never to be like him: never to resort to villainy for anything. Thankfully I myself had a nanny who seemed determined to make that happen. I was brought up with her model to guide myself by and eventually I became a nanny myself. Of course,” Maim paused, “When my nanny academy was no longer successful at finding work for my graduates desperation drove me back to my genetic behavioral roots, so to speak.”

“How was he never caught? From what I have learned from Stop- my American friends the only way out of the mafia is death.”

“Maim is my mother’s name,” Nanny Maim answered, “He took her name when they married, and the mafia knew he had only taken his cut of all the money he dealt with when he left. So there was really no need to pursue him. Even if he, oh what’s the term I’m looking for, ah _snitched_ on them the mafia still had a great deal of control over the police force and very believable cover stories. But that’s all ancient history now.”

“I see. And what of the matter of the late Lord Fiske?”

Maim looked at her a moment, “You know, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. You are an enemy of my son’s, but I feel as though I can trust you. See to it I’m not proven wrong or else the villainy I resort to will be entirely by choice this time,” Maim coldly stared at the young ninja as she took another sip from her cup, “As for Montgomery’s father: I met him at my coming out ball hosted by one of mother’s schoolyard friends. It was a lovely thing,” the old woman’s eyes misted over at the remembrance, “He was older than me by a few years, not as much as you and Monty mind you but enough to make tongues wag, charming, and he set my heart a flutter. Through his year-long courtship of me I never once suspected what he had planned all along,”

“What was it?”

“You see, my late husband, and I use that term as loosely as possible, was a bit of a hedonist. Only lived for his own pleasure. Women, wine, you name it: he partook of it. However, his own father was not fond of the path his son was traveling down and attempted to reform him by restricting his inheritance. If he was not able to curb his lascivious life style he would receive nothing. Henry needed to find a wife of suitable station and status to fulfill his father’s wishes and get his hands on that money –both his and my own- and lo and behold there I was, young, titled, rich, and naïve. I was the perfect mark.

“So he wooed me, played the part of besotted lover better than any actor I’ve ever seen in my life, and asked me for my hand. Everything done according to the letter he seemed to know I’d live by, I agreed and we married. And from that union Monty was born.”

“But if you had a stringent upbringing and were determined to provide the same for others, how did his lordship get so…” Yori searched for the right word.

“Obsessed?” Maim supplied, “I can only do so much in two months.”

“Two months?”

“After his birth I was forcibly retired to the estate in Shireshimshire and only allowed to see him for the summer holidays before he reached his majority.”

“Why?”

“My husband held all the power. He said that he needed to stay married to me in order to keep the inheritance money from being donated to the middle class,” the revulsion in her tone was clearly a mockery of her late husband, “but he did not wish to stay with me. Marriages within the upper class were still very much stuck in the middle ages for the most part so I had no say. He also threatened that if I refused and attempted to divorce him I would never see my son again.”

“How dishonorable,” Yori said.

“It was but that was the way it was back then. I accepted a generous ‘retirement’ sum. The Shireshimshire estate and enough money and staff to transform it into a nanny academy, and the privilege of seeing my son for two months out of every year. At least, until he turned thirteen and was sent to the best boarding schools all over Europe. And unfortunately, two months of strict discipline and regiment can only do so much against ten months of more or less having free reign of one’s own life.”

“What do you mean? His lordship never disciplined your son?”

“My late husband care little for anything outside his own bacchanalian interests. Montgomery, while here at Fiske Castle, was ignored by all but the staff, and the staff could not reprimand him for the fear that he would go to his father and have them sacked. I do believe that’s where the obsessive part of his life began. With no one around to control it obsession is quite the slippery slope,” Maim finished.

“I feel as though that makes a great deal of sense,” Yori replied, “Thank you for sharing your story with me Nanny Maim.”

“I have many more if you’re ever interested,” Maim replied.

“You said you are planning on staying for a while. Have you any idea where you’ll sleep?” Yori asked, “I can have my things moved from the Lady’s chambers if-”

Nanny Maim held up a hand and silenced the young woman, “No, if what you told me is true, then you will need those chambers solely for keeping my Monty safe. I will be fine in the guest wing: that’s all I’ve ever been to this place anyways.”

“I do not believe that,” Yori said, “Truly, if your son did not wish for you to be here he would have sent you away. You are his mother, and you should be treated with the respect your station deserved.”

“My station? Hah,” Maim laughed, “Besides, the only reason I’m still here is because of you. Whether you like it or not, and whether or not Monty chooses to admit it, you have an influence over him. The likes of which I’ve never seen from anyone, including me or his late father.”

“That is quite an amusing joke, but I do not think it to be true.”

“Take it from an old woman who’s watched him grow from a babe to a man. You hold a great deal of sway with him. I do not doubt that given time you could convince him to give up this obsession of his, to give up villainy as a whole, in fact.”

“I am flattered you think so highly of me,” Yori bowed her head to Nanny Maim, “But I could never convince him to do that.”

“Couldn’t?” Maim pressed, “Or wouldn’t wish to. There is a difference, dear girl.”

“That is a question I fear the answer to,” Yori said honestly, “Domo Arigatou Nanny Maim, but I believe I should check on your son and valet. They have been gone quite some time.”

“As you wish dear, as you wish.”

KP

Later that evening Yori was preparing for bed. Lunch had been a rather silent and awkward affair, though it was topped in both categories by dinner. Bates had swiftly escorted Maim and Monkey Fist into different rooms afterward, though whether or not they had stayed away from each other after that was up for debate. She pulled out her night clothes, a soft lotus-white nightgown with matching slippers. It suited neither the ninja lifestyle nor her traditional character, but it was her own secret pleasure. She felt no guilt, though she could imagine how embarrassed she would be to be caught in it by anyone. There was movement somewhat audible from the room next door, his lordship must have been preparing for bed. Yori had just dawned the silk wrapper that went with the nightgown when there came a knock at the connecting door.

Perplexed at what he might want Yori opened the door. There, braced against the frame with the sounds of monkeys filtering in from behind him, was Monkey Fist. He was dressed rather oddly, in Yori’s opinion, with either a smoking jacket or a dressing gown –she really couldn’t tell which- covering his normal uniform.

“How may I help you, Lord Monkey Fist?” Yori asked, subconsciously drawing the wrapper tighter about herself.

“We are now in private company,” Monkey Fist replied, “My mother has been as far from here while remaining in the family wing as possible and Bates has retired to his apartments in the servants’ quarters. Now you may pick up where you fobbed me off before.”

“Fobbed you off?” Yori questioned, “I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” the monkey lord scoffed, “Earlier today, whilst we were having tea with my mother and she was diatribing on the nonexistent romantic relationship between us, you said something surprised you.”

“I did?” Yori played dumb.

“You did,” the lord affirmed, “And when I pressed you said it was nothing. I know, however, it was not nothing as you claim. Tell me what surprised you.”

“It, it was-” Yori scrambled, cheeks heating up and heart rate increasing despite the circumstances. Or was it _because_ of them?

“Out with it now, it was what, exactly?” despite not moving from his position he seemed to fill up the doorway and loom over her, such was the intensity radiating off him.

“Just how, how _human_ you are beneath this obsession of yours,” Yori said in a hushed tone of voice.

All at once the atmosphere relaxed, the intensity that had been filling the room receded and Yori felt as though she could breathe again, “Oh, I see,” was all he said in response.

“It was simply a shock to me,” Yori went on, feeling as though he expected her to say something more, “Because, I had not known you before, before,”

“Before I what?”

“Before you had traveled down the path you have chosen, the path that has twisted you so.”

“Twisted me?” He blinked at her, despite not being able to see, “You really think I was normal before?”

Yori studied him for a moment before she dropped her gaze to the ground and said, “Perhaps not, you seem the type to have resorted to any means necessary to accomplish your goals, no matter what kind of goal it was. Villainy would have seduced you into its embrace regardless of your obsession with becoming the Ultimate Monkey Master. Any obsession would have brought you down a very similar path. That is what I think, at least. But to see you acting as a gracious host, a knowledgeable scholar, this very human mask you seem to be able to put on and take off at will. It is something that frightens me, to see how the quest for power has warped you beyond repair; and made a monster out of what could have been a great man.”

“And do you presume you hold enough sway over me to divert me from my chosen path?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yori discovers just how much Monkey Fist appreciates Japanese culture and awkward moments abound

Yori’s downcast eyes flew up to meet his blank but seeing ones, “Ah yes, you think I didn’t catch the tail end of your little heart-to-heart with my mother?”

“I,” Yori stuttered.

“Well ninja, tell me what you think. Would you convince me to give up my villainy?”

“I would not,” Yori told him honestly.

He seemed surprised by her answer, “Why not? Isn’t reform or death the only options with you heroes?”

“Because,” Yori replied, “To cajole you into abandoning darkness, villainy, this life you have made for yourself; it would be like blinding you all over again.” He continued to “stare” at her but said nothing, “I wish for nothing more than to see you return to a path that will not lead to your own destruction as this path has once before. But if you do so it will have to be because of the choice you willingly make. A choice to change the destiny you forged for yourself.”

Again, he said nothing and Yori felt the silence begin to crush her, “Sumimasen,” she said, bowing to him even though he could not see her, “I believe that I have spoken where I had no business speaking. It is late, and I think it is time that we retire for the evening. Good night, Lord Monkey Fist,” she bowed again and stepped back, reaching to close the door.

The thud of a hand against the wood stopped its trek, “And who are you to draw such insight about me, of all people?”

“I am a student of the Yamanouchi school,” Yori answered, “But more than that, the path you take is not dissimilar to a path I myself know. Good night, your lordship.”

This time he allowed the door to be shut on him. Yori braced her back against the barrier and took a deep breath. Suddenly she lost all strength in her legs and slid towards the floor. From behind her she could hear the muffled sounds of Monkey Fist and his ninjas helping him get into bed. The sound of another door closing made its way to her ears and she sighed. He must have been in bed and the ninjas gone to wherever they resided when not at his beck and call.

Yori sighed as she rose to her feet, perhaps some meditation was in order. She walked to the center of the room and took up a lotus position on the floor, attempting to quiet the storm within her.

KP

The next morning, and the next couple of weeks for that matter, progressed without much incident or fanfare. Fukushima still had not been caught, but he also hadn’t attacked here. And despite the appearance, the castle held much to occupy Yori. Mostly though, she spent a great deal of time with Nanny Maim when she could, which was more than she had thought. Apparently Monkey Fist had enough confidence in his ninjas that they could fend off any attacker long enough for Chippy to locate Yori and alert the ninja. Yori found she couldn’t disagree as he _had_ trained them himself and in a horde they were quite the adversaries. The few times she was around him without the buffer of his mother, valet, or ninja monkeys was when he allowed her to mediate with him.

One of those times she had returned to his, for lack of a better word, dungeon to check in on him. she had found him once more in a full lotus position, and almost completely unaware. He had noticed her though, and gestured for her to join him. They had then passed away the hours in each other’s company, but silent. Yori was reminded of something Stoppable-san had once said: that the mark of a great relationship was to be together without doing anything. With a blush she had tried to push that out of her head.

Yori was surprised at how she could find peace with one who was supposed to be her enemy, and how much she enjoyed being around his family. Nanny Maim told Yori all sorts of stories: ones from her past, ones from both her mother and father’s pasts, anecdotes from Monkey Fist’s childhood, as well as some of the worst cases of problem Maim had had to take on at the mere start of her career.

“Little brats they were,” Maim would tell her, “Of course by the time I got done with them they were like little angels. Such a shame that no one needs strict nannies anymore.”

“I do not believe that there is no need for them,” Yori countered, “Rather, parents do not wish to admit they cannot handle their own offspring, or they cannot see anything wrong with their children’s behavior.”

“A young person who embraces strict discipline and regiment, I never thought I’d see the day,” Maim said.

“Yamanouchi is a school where strict discipline –both self and otherwise- is necessary. If one cannot follow it, one does not belong there.”

Monkey Fist had not spoken to her about how she had such insight on him, and she refused to bring it up. As far as she was concerned, it was none of his business unless he otherwise made it. All the same she let out a sigh as she stared out a window, as much of an honor as it was to be here: to help protect a man who needed protecting, she couldn’t help but feel a little homesick, this was the longest she’d been in one place away from home.

“Yori?” Nanny Maim questioned, “Is there something wrong dear?”

“It is nothing Nanny Maim,” Yori replied, “I am, simply feeling a little homesick.”

“I can relate,” Maim said, “Shireshimshire has been my home for three decades, and this place isn’t exactly the most welcoming to newcomers, part of its design really.”

“It is a beautiful place, but I miss Japan.”

“If you’re feeling so homesick, why not take a walk around the rear grounds? I’m almost positive Montgomery had a Japanese garden put in there at some point, Bates sent me pictures.”

“Was that alright for him to do?”

“His father really didn’t care and at that point Monty had taken over the position of Lord in all but name anyways. No one else besides me had the ability to deny him and I have complete apathy for this place, changing it and the memories it holds didn’t bother me in the slightest.”

Yori felt her excitement build, “Where is this Japanese garden, if you do not mind?”

“Just go wandering about the back of the castle grounds, you will not be able to miss it,” Maim instructed her.

“Domo,” Yori said as she rose from her seat and bowed, “If you will excuse me then,”

“Go right ahead,” Maim allowed, the girl was the most proper one she had met in a very long time, a little bit of impropriety every now and then was healthy for her.

KP

Yori found her way to the castle grounds and began looking around. As she reached the far side of the rear gardens she noticed the style shift drastically. While before the greenery remained manicured but more or less left alone the small forest before her now seemed cut to form a gateway to a hidden grotto. As she drew closer she noticed a faded red Torii gate with the symbol of the Monkey King placed in its center. Realizing that Monkey Fist purposefully decorated and therefore likely treated this place as some sanctuary of his she decided the best course of action would be to act as though she were visiting a shrine back at home. Yori put her hands together and bowed before the gate, before moving to the right side and starting down the path.

As she drew deeper and deeper into this part of the castle ground she noticed that Monkey Fist had built up this space in layers. Closest to the Torii gate was a Karesansui: or Zen garden made of fine white stones. While passing she noticed that there were two or three ninja monkeys tending to it with small wooden rakes. All of a sudden she felt a small weight on her shoulders, another ninja monkey who she could only believe was Chippy.

“Moshi-Moshi Chippy,” Yori said with a smile. Chippy chattered happily in response.

“Are you going to join me while I explore?” Yori asked. Again Chippy made a positive sounding noise which Yori took as a yes, “Very well then, let us explore.”

Past the Zen garden there was Kaiyū-shiki-teien: the strolling gardens, and beyond that the path culminated in a Tsubo-niwa: a courtyard garden that became its own gateway to a bamboo-fenced area. She saw steam rise from behind it and realized what it was.

“An Onsen?” she gasped with delight. It had been quite some time since she had been able to truly relax and an Onsen was the perfect place to do it. Had to give Monkey Fist credit where credit was due, his obsession was unhealthy, but there were some benefits to be had from it.

From her spot on the ninja’s shoulder Chippy began to fidget. She leaped off and into the trees with not a word or other sound. Yori thought it was strange but when Chippy reappeared on the roof of the gate everything seemed okay. Yori wandered into the area and was surprised to find it had a very large and sectioned changing room with towels on a small moving rack and lockers to put aside the street clothes. Quickly Yori discarded her traditional garb and wrapped a towel around herself, tucking it tightly in the front to make sure she could keep her hands free. She folded and placed her clothes into a locker near the end, so she could find them if the need arose.

Yori drew back the small handing curtain and peered out at the hot spring. It looked the same as it would back at any Ryokan back in Japan and Yori had to credit Monkey Fist his eye for detail. The Onsen itself looked deserted but peaceful, the water steaming yet clear as glass. Locating the wading entrance Yori stepped into the water one foot at a time. Once fully submersed she found a spot to relax against and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh of contentment.  Even as Yori sat doing nothing she could already feel her tense muscles unwinding. How she wished there was something like this back at Yamanouchi, but Sensei had feared that it could be used for things other than its intended purpose. Yori couldn’t deny that the wise master had a point there.

Time seemed to melt away and fade when one was in a bath, or really alone with their thoughts. For her part Yori let them drift and only came to think of something when it brushed by her consciousness. The sound of water lapping at something that wasn’t the stones that lined the pool or herself had her eyes opening, alert and ready to fight –completely naked if she _absolutely_ had to- any unseen adversary.

She didn’t _see_ anyone, but that didn’t mean she was alone. She rose half out of the water and as stealthily as she could began to move around, searching for the intruder. Yori strained, hearing the same small movements, her adversary knew she was there too and was attempting to locate her without being seen. This silent game of Marco-Polo continued for quite some time, until the two didn’t realize they had backed up into each other. The pair, startled, fell back into the water with two ungraceful splashes. When they both broke water they gasped for breath. And Yori, for her part, was gasping just as much as who had been tracking her.

“Lord Monkey Fist,” she said, grateful to whatever deities existed above she didn’t squeak with embarrassment. Her cheeks were red and it had very little to do with the heat from the water.

The Monkey Lord was dressed in as much as she was at the moment: only a towel covering what needed to be covered, and even then it seemed to be slung low with the knotting.

“Rot,” he cursed quietly, “I should have known it would be you the moment I sensed a presence. Mother doesn’t even know what this is used for and Bates prefers indoor baths.”

“I, I did not mean to disturb,” Yori said quietly, looking anywhere but at him in a vain attempt not to stare. Despite the age difference he was probably more fit a warrior than some of her fellow students at Yamanouchi and it made him seem much younger than he actually was. Not to mention, this was probably the first time she had ever seen a man half-naked, Stoppable-san didn’t count.

“I can leave if you like,” Yori finished lamely, already preparing to leave the bath.

“The bath is certainly large enough, I don’t see why you should feel you have to leave,” he replied.

“You do not feel this is, as they say, awkward?” Yori asked.

“There are co-ed baths in Onsens all across Japan are there not?” Monkey Fist countered.

“I suppose,” Yori allowed, “But-”

“But nothing, unless…” he paused for a moment and Yori had to remind herself that he couldn’t see, such was the intensity of the scrutiny he was leveling at her, “You’re afraid,” he concluded.

“Afraid? There is nothing to fear,” Yori answered, “I am, however, incredibly uncomfortable sharing a bath with a man I am neither close with nor married to.”

“So you wouldn’t mind sharing the bath with Stoppable, is that what you’re saying?”

“I will not dignify that question with a response. And now, I think I should take my leave,” Yori rose from the water once more and prepared to make her way to the exit.

“Fleeing from a challenge, how dishonorable,” he mocked. Yori refused to rise to the bait, “What is it you are afraid of?”

“I am not afraid; I am simply uncomfortable.”

“You wouldn’t feel that way unless you had something to worry about? What, are you afraid the towel might slip and you’ll be vulnerable before me?”

Yori didn’t respond quickly enough and that was all the answer he needed.

“You assume I would be able –and interested- to see anything you would have exposed.

“I do not worry about what you could or could not see, your Lordship. It is what you can _feel_ that has me worried,” her piece said, Yori attempted to make her way to the edge of the pool.

“Wait,” he said.

Yori stopped, “What is it, Lord Monkey Fist?”

“I-” he paused for a moment almost as though searching for words that wouldn’t detract from his reputation, “My ninja monkeys are all elsewhere, out of earshot I’m sure, and I could drown if left to my own devices. Stay, as a guard.”

Yori stared at him, her turn to scrutinize, and smiled, “I see, and this would have nothing to do with wanting some company, correct?” what she left unsaid was the fact that the bathing pool may have been large, but it was also fairly shallow: enough that Monkey Fist wouldn’t have been able to drown unless someone had knocked him unconscious first.

“Of course, I am perfectly comfortable being alone, I always have been,” he said affronted at the accusation, “Though,” here his tone turned an almost imperceptible bit softer, “I will not deny it’s nice to have some company that can appreciate this. Come closer, I can tell you’re still too far away to make much of a difference if something happens to me.”

“The only way being near would be effective would be if I was right next to you, and as I said it is what you can feel that has me worried.”

“Then we can sit back to back,” Monkey Fist reasoned, “Close enough so that if you need to help me you can but you won’t have to worry about wandering hands.”

“You give your word I will not?” Yori raised a brow at him.

“As the Ultimate Monkey Master,” he swore.

“I am afraid I cannot trust that,” Yori replied.

He sighed, “You ninja lot, always so untrustworthy. Very well, I swear on my honor as a scholar and a gentleman you will not have to worry. Satisfied?”

“Indeed,” Yori answered, carefully making her way to his back and settling her own against it.

They sank back into the water and enjoyed the peace. Or at least tried to. Yori had never felt more aware of anything than she was the subtle shifts of Monkey Fist’s body as he relaxed against her. Her heart was thundering for some reason, and idly she wondered if he could hear or feel it as she sat against his back.

“You know,” he began out of the blue, “I let the matter drop these past few weeks because I believed you needed time to get accustomed to the castle as well as my mother and Bates. But now I think I have waited long enough, it’s time we finish the conversation we started the night we arrived here.”

“Conversation?” Yori played stupid even though she knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Don’t play coy, Yori,” he told her, “You said that if I ever gave up villainy you wanted it to be my choice and my choice alone. When I asked you why you said the path I have taken is not dissimilar to a path you know. I want you to explain yourself.”

“Lord Monkey Fist,” Yori began, “What do you crave most in the world? What is it that drives your obsession?”

“I desire to be the Ultimate Monkey Master, that is my driving force,” he replied.

“Why do you wish to be the Ultimate Monkey Master?” Yori pressed.

“My reasons are my own,” he evaded.

“Power,” she answered her own question, “The lust for power is what drives you on this quest, even knowing what the outcome will always be.”

“You are saying I will always die in my quest to fulfill my destiny?”

“Perhaps once, long ago, you were destined to become the Ultimate Monkey Master,” Yori mused, “But, Fate works in mysterious ways: it sets out multiple pathways for us, decisions we must make in order to prove ourselves. I truly believe that somewhere along the line, you became consumed with the search for power, and in doing so have forsaken that destiny. You have been so consumed by your powers and your lust for more of it, that you cannot fathom living without them: would reject even trying. You would sooner die than give them up.”

“And what does any of that have to do with you?” Monkey Fist asked.

“Do you not see any parallels between us, Monkey King?”

He was silent for a moment, but she could sense the wheels turning in his head, “Let me ask you then, why do you protect your enemy?”

“It is the honorable thing to do,” Yori answered automatically, tone even and almost inhuman. The type of sound a one makes when answering a question they have heard endlessly repeated by other.

“Ah, I see now,” he said knowingly after a moment of silent contemplation of her words, “Your tie to honor is similar to mine with power. That is what you’re getting at, is it not?”

“It is,” Yori affirmed.

“Why the obsession with your honor?” he asked, “Power, I can understand because power has corrupted many men over the course of history. But honor? I have never heard tale of honor corrupting anyone.”

“That is because in my culture honor is everything, to the point where Seppuku is still practiced and considered a noble action even today.”

“In that sense I suppose it does corrupt,” Monkey Fist allowed, “Are you saying my path with power is similar to yours with honor? Now I’m curious, how has your path of honor blackened you?”

“I am sure you know that traditionally ninjas are closely associated with assassins,” Yori replied, “And I cannot deny that it is a false notion. I found that as a graduate of Yamanouchi, there might come a time where I was needed to kill someone in order to bring peace to the world. The needs of the many trump those of the few, as it has been said. But, to kill someone, to take a life in cold blood: that is something I cannot do. My honor will not allow it.

“In that way, Lord Monkey Fist, we are very much alike. You would, and have, sacrificed everything for the sake of power. And for my honor I would do the same.”

“You’re an orphan, aren’t you?”

The question took her slightly off-guard, “To my knowledge, yes. Why?”

“Because, going along in the same line of thinking leads me to a conclusion. I live for power; you live for honor. But even the best of men have forsaken their honor for something else. The only ones who do not are the ones who have only their honor to live for.”

“You are correct,” Yori replied, “I have nothing to live for but my honor,”

“And you would sooner die than forsake it,” he finished.

“That is right,” she affirmed, “I have been tasked with taking out potential threats, both to Japan and the world as a whole. It was hard to rectify my tie to my honor and refusal to kill anyone with the plain fact that I needed to fulfill my orders, but l learned, and it got easier. Over the years I have done all manner of gruesome things, however, not once have I ever killed a man. I strike to disarm, I strike to incapacitate, even injure. But I have never dealt a fatal wound in my life.”

“Any wound can be fatal if not within the reaches of civilization,” Monkey Fist pointed out.

“That is true, and the wilderness _is_ where a ninja thrives.”

“I see. So, you are saying that you and I are like yin and yang: bound by just how poisonously potent our respective ties to honor and power are. That is why you worry, and that is why you show mercy.”

“What do you mean?” Yori asked.

“You think I did not thoroughly study your technique while waiting on my chance to secure the Lotus Blade?” He asked in reply, “I know just how powerful you really are, it is the reason your Master trusts you with such important matters as the safekeeping of the Han before depositing it with Stoppable, or with protecting me from the likes of Fukushima. But when you go up against me you always hold back, even if you yourself don’t realize it sometimes.”

“How did you know?” she whispered, surprised by his insight.

“I told you, I watched. I saw you battle against other threats, and while you are right in that you have never dealt anyone a fatal blow, you injured them to the point where healthy recovery would be the only goal they could focus on. That is what your shackle of honor has done to you: made you merciless yet merciful; a combination which will someday prove fatal to you and all you hold dear.”

“You lie,” Yori said with as much derision as she could muster, not as much as she would have liked considering the truth within his words.

“Do I?” he asked in reply, “In any case, I am sure there will come a time where you will forsake your honor, once you find something else worth living for. Something that makes honor seem pale and lifeless by comparison.”

“I would sooner die for you or at your hand than have you die at mine,” Yori said firmly, “But I do not fail to see the wisdom in your words. As long as you do not deny the same possibility with yourself and power.”

“Such a time will never come,” Monkey Fist rebutted, “But I do not deny the possibility of it once being possible. In another life, another time, perhaps…”

“Why do you deny it for yourself?” Yori asked.

“That is a question for another day,” Monkey Fist said with a sigh, “I think the conversation has gone on long enough.”

“Is it because you doubt yourself?” she pressed.

“We’re done,” He cut her off firmly as he slowly rose to his feet, attempting to keep his balance, “I’ve done enough soul-searching and heart-to-hearting with you for one night.”

“If you insist,” Yori said as she too rose, turning and reaching to help keep him steady, “But rest assured that, just as you have made me share, I too will make you.”

“I look forward to the challenge of resisting.”

KP

Another week passed without incident, and in the back of her mind Yori wondered if Fukushima had already been caught but no one had informed her yet. She shook her head soon after: that was ridiculous. If Fukushima had been caught, she would have already been back at Yamanouchi by now, Sensei was very efficient in letting people know when a mission was done. It was nearing on two months she had been here and she was afraid her vigilance was starting to slip with the more or less relaxed atmosphere. She wondered if Monkey Fist was having the same issue as her, probably not since she was certain he was still adjusting to life without sight.

That brought her train of thought to what it was he did all day: having decided his secret dojo was the safest place for him to be during daylight hours it was where he spent a great deal of his time. Yori decided it was time she check in on him. As she headed to the Library she noticed a ninja monkey lying in wait for her. Chippy again, the little simian had taken quite a liking to her and would often follow her around the castle when she wasn’t visiting with Nanny Maim.

“Moshi-Moshi Chippy,” Yori greeted, “I’m going to check in on your master, can you make sure the doorway closes behind me?”

Chippy made a sound of acknowledgement and bobbed her head yes. Yori pulled on the Candelabra and entered in through the fireplace, Chippy activating the closing mechanism and scampering in behind her.

“Lord Monkey Fist?” Yori called.

She heard a small crash and then an exasperated reply, “What do you want _now_?” he was in the training room.

Rather than responding she made her way in to the training room and saw a few ninja monkeys cleaning up the remains of a porcelain discus: the practice kind that people shot skeets with.

“What are you doing?” Yori asked him.

“Attempting to regain my ability to fight,” he replied.

“And you thought to do this by having your ninja monkeys throw things at you?” she was skeptical of the wisdom behind this method.

“No,” Monkey Fist shot, “I am practicing with a training dummy, but when you called I lost my balance and toppled into a shooting skeet that I don’t even know why is here.”

“How are you practicing with a training dummy if you cannot see it?”

“Simple,” he explained, “I discovered that my mystical monkey powers have been helping me compensate for my current lack of sight: my ability to sense the presence of other beings has grown stronger; so, in order to help hone this skill I have one of the ninja monkeys stand behind the dummy and move it about as I attack it.”

“It does sound simple,” Yori admitted, “Very well then, how about we spar?”

“You wish to spar with an old blind man?”

“Age brings wisdom, in most cases anyways,” Yori rebutted, “Besides, as your mother says you are not that old.”

“Old by comparison, perhaps,” He said ruefully, “I do have almost a decade and a half on you.”

“Just because I am younger does not mean you could not best me,” Yori told him, “Sensei has not lost to a single student that has ever challenged him. Do not count yourself out just yet.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Monkey Fist replied, “Now, take your position and we’ll begin. No weapons.”

“Very well,” she strode to the designated place to begin a match. There was a moment of silence between the two: Yori bowed, Monkey Fist merely inclined his head so as not to lose his balance. The fight began and the two dropped into fighting stances but neither moved, waiting to see what move their opponent would pull first. The tension in the air grew thick with each second that passed.

“You know, the fight only truly begins when someone begins attacking,” he said conversationally, but Yori knew he was testing the waters, attempting to make her attack first.

“I do,” she replied just as measuredly, “I am simply waiting for you to reveal your weak spot.”

“Good luck,” he retorted, “I have been practicing this for weeks, you won’t find any.”

“I think I just did,” she said as she lunged forward, feinting a blow to his shoulder and darting out the way just as he came up to block. The game was afoot now.

Time passed and the two exchanged blow after blow, or attempted to anyways. Both warriors were highly skilled and always managed to escape injury at the last possible moment. As this went on their fight became less of a fight and more like a very carefully choreographed dance: the movements fluid and graceful.

“You’re really quite good,” he complimented, as she flipped out of the way of a strike, “Makes me wonder at what you could do if _I_ had trained you instead.”

“It is most unfortunate for you that you will never find out,” Yori said as she struck at his arm, “But I thank you for the compliment.”

“Indeed,”

“I do believe you are overthinking this,” Yori quipped, evading the nth blow Monkey Fist had thrown.

“And what would you know about overthinking?” He asked in reply, dodging a blow of her own.

“Merely that it ultimately becomes a distraction and distraction can cost one a victory.”

“Duly noted,” he said dryly as they moved about the sparring ring, “And what do you think I should do to rectify it?”

“Trust your instincts,” Yori said lightly, “Mine have never failed me before.”

“I seriously doubt that’s something you want me to do,” he told her, “You couldn’t handle it.”

“You think so?” Yori’s tone glittered with danger.

“I know so. Don’t be a fool,” he said, “When my instincts kick in there are no survivors.”

“Are you admitting to murder?” Yori questioned.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Monkey Fist deflected, “But I will admit that, unlike you, I have no qualms about destroying anyone who poses a threat to me.”

“And yet you have failed to accomplish that goal on so many occasions,” Yori taunted, reminding him of his failure to become the _only_ one with Mystical Monkey Power, “You do not scare me.”

He dropped his fighting stance then, crouching low to the ground and balancing on his knuckles. Perhaps it had been foolish to anger him like that, but no human was flawless. There was a low rumbling resonating from within his chest that echoed within the ninja monkeys who had been observing. Yori stopped moving but did not drop her stance. Instead her hands went to her ever-present Tessen, hidden within the folds of her Gi. The chatterings of the ninja monkeys grew louder behind her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

There came a simian shriek from the Monkey King and he lunged. Yori barely managed to evade, feeling his knuckles brush against the fabric of her clothes as he landed where she had just been. Over and over this repeated, but the battlefield raged beyond the sparring mat: Yori began flipping off the walls of the training room attempting to escape him. Monkey Fist was now moving far too quickly for her to concentrate on anything besides dodging and though his eyes were unseeing Yori could have sworn she saw an animalistic glint in them.  His latest attack left her having to backflip out of the way, leaving an opening for him to tackle her to the ground before she recovered her equilibrium.

Yori lay, splayed out on the floor of the dojo pinned overhead by a snarling and growling Monkey Fist. Thankfully, Yori still had the use of her arms, which she utilized without a thought as to her retaliation. She grasped both sides of his face and brought it down to hers, placing their foreheads against one another and rubbing the bridges of their noses together. To any outside spectator it might have seemed as though the two were embracing, and in the back of her mind Yori was glad Nanny Maim did not know how to enter her son’s sanctum. Monkey Fist stopped the animalistic grunts, but Yori sensed he was still not all there yet. She pulled his face slightly away from hers, leaving one hand to gently stroke his cheekbone with her thumb.

“Monkey Fist,” she breathed, “Return, your lordship. Please,” she begged

His blank, unseeing stare remained locked in the direction of her voice. She continued the gentle touch, raising her head enough to brush her lips against his chin in an evanescent touch. Unlike many other scenarios she could imagine this happening in, her actions now were not about romance. Sensei had always taught that the best way to handle a wild animal coming at you was to have a gentle touch and open palm. A soft action will always surprise an attacking creature, enough to stop them cold. Monkey Fist continued to stare at her, one hand raised to cup the one on his cheeks, traveling down to touch at her face, exploring it and attempting to read the emotion written there. Yori fought a shiver, despite some saying coupling was the most intimate act there was, this felt far more intimate than anything she had ever experienced, and she doubted that could top this. But then Monkey Fist’s eyes squeezed shut and opened suddenly and she could tell he had returned.

“What, what happened?” he asked, tone slightly pained, as he took stock of the situation, pulling his hand away from her face.

“I,” Yori began, “I know now why you deny the possibility that you could find something worth living for that made power pale in comparison,” she said, “Now I see that your chain to power, your obsession with obtaining more has cost you more than your sight. It has cost you your sanity.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More hidden chambers and shameless reference plugs, I have nothing else to say

The mood had turned incredibly stifling and uncomfortable after Yori had realized why Monkey Fist denied ever being able to find a way to break himself of his obsession.

“Not quite,” He had corrected, “I am close, oh so close. And the more hours I spend, the closer I get. I must admit, I believe I have already had my moments of insanity: times where I have become infuriated to the point where I black up, only to wake and find wherever I am in shambles. But as long as I can return, I know I am not lost yet.”

“Can one still be considered sane after tasting insanity?” Yori asked him.

“That, my dear adversary, is life’s greatest question. Well, along with just _what_ exactly constitutes madness that is.”

“I see,” Yori remained silent a moment, “I believe I owe you an apology.”

“What for?”

“I goaded you, _I_ was responsible for that lapse you just had. I am deeply sorry for my actions, it was-”

“No,” he said, cutting her off before she could finish, “As much as the idea of causing the Honorable you to act in a way less than the standard you hold yourself to, the blame does not lie solely on your shoulders.”

“What do you mean, your lordship?” she asked.

“I am also to blame for letting myself be agitated by petty words,” he replied, “A warrior of my caliber should have more self-control.”

“But Stoppable-san and his current status as Ultimate Monkey Master is still a raw nerve with you,” Yori pointed out.

“True, but no one lives forever,” Monkey Fist said, “All I have to do is outlast him and the power will come to me. Now,” he retreated until he was sitting on the ground away from her, “I think it would be for the best if we don’t spar for a little while.”

“And how long is a little while?”

“The next time you and the cheer squad attempt to stop me from doing something evil.”

KP

Three months in now, with no sign of a reprieve from her duty, or was it a chance to fulfill her duty? Monkey Fist continued to work on quite literally fighting blind and remained within his hidden sanctum, leaving the ninja with nothing to do when everyone else went their separate ways. Meditation became a constant, as did frequent trips to the backyard hot springs, though now she made sure to find out if and when Monkey Fist was using them to avoid another awkward situation like the first trip had turned out to be.

Yori wandered the castle halls, looking for something to do, until she ran into the omnipresent valet. Bates was the only servant she saw around the castle, but it always looked immaculate, she wondered why that could be.

“Bates-san,” she greeted, “I was wondering if there was anything I could assist with today.”

“No need Miss,” he quickly assured her, “You’re our important guest, it wouldn’t be proper to have you do a servant’s work y’know.”

“Is there a way for me to occupy my time then? Meditation can only help one relax so much, Nanny Maim is currently taking a nap, I have no desire to return to the Japanese gardens, and your master sequesters himself inside his dojo to the point where I’ve barely seen him except for at mealtimes.”

“You know, I believe if you like I can show you the music room,” Bates said as he stroked his chin thoughtfully, “You might find something to occupy your time there,”

“I am afraid I do not play any instruments,” Yori replied.

“You don’t need to,” Bates told her as he began to lead the way, “I’ll show you everything you’ll need to know to occupy your time. Before,” here he trailed off, “before everything went the way it has the young master used to spend quite a great deal of time in here.”

“In the music room?”

“Before he became a respected scholar,” Yori didn’t miss the fact that the valet purposefully left out the title of simian-obsessed martial artist, “he was just a young boy. With everything going on with the late master, music was the only constant he had. It was his escape, until he found those first ancient scrolls that is. Ah, here we are,” he opened the doors to a small room that Yori presumed at one point had been a study. It had since been transformed into a miniature library, but instead of books on its shelves there were all sorts of musical collections: from music scores to CD’s. The space itself, aside from the bookcases, was relatively open with just a few chairs and settees scattered about if people wanted to sit and the largely open space for when people wanted to dance.

There was only one device in the room that looked like it was capable of playing music, however it didn’t look anything like what she was used to. It was a small box with a little circular space on it. A small peg stuck out of the middle of the circle, and on one side were knobs and switches along with a bar that had a small triangle stuck to the underside of it.

“Bates-san,” Yori said as she examined the object, “Forgive me for sounding ignorant, but I do not know what this is.”

Bates laughed, “I fully expected you not to Miss. You are still young and this way of playing music fell out of fashion before you were even born. It’s a record player, the late master and the young master amassed quite a collection here. The shelves are all organized, all the ones near the record player hold records which you place onto the turntable, flip this switch here, and then drop the needle onto the outermost ring. The records on the shelves are organized by genre and then by year. Pop and rock are over here, jazz and blues in this one, and musicals are over there in that corner nook,” He demonstrated how to use the record player with the one already in the machine and pointed out all the rest.

“Seems simple enough,” Yori said, “I’m sure I’ll be able to find you if I have any trouble.”

“Or the Mistress or Master, they both know how to use it if I am unavailable. Have fun, Miss,” Bates said with a small salute as he left.

Yori turned to the record player, which Bates had switched off when he left. Cautious and curious, she lifted the arm off the record and withdrew it, marveling at the size of the disk and glancing at the songs printed in tiny lettering in the center of the record. None of them sounded appealing, so she found the sleeve the record was supposed to be housed in and left it on the side table. She browsed through the collections, selecting the ones whose cover art was interesting to say the least, and whose song titles intrigued her. She had two or three by the time she got to the musical cabinet, which had been where her real interest had lay the whole time. She had never really pegged Monkey Fist as the type to enjoy theatre. Then again, Bates had said it was a collaborative collection filled with records from both Monkey Fist and the late Lord Fiske. Perhaps the latter was responsible for the bookshelves filled with records.

She set the records she’d already selected on the table by the player and leisurely dragged a finger across the spines of the record cases. There was one on the very end of a middle shelf that was half sticking out, as though there hadn’t been enough room for it to be put back in its proper place; either that or someone who’d been listening to it had simply haphazardly put it back in the shelf. She pulled it out and looked at the back cover, some of the songs titles sounded a little odd, but on the whole the album art and songs seemed like they would be a good way to pass the time. Yori gently pulled out the record and set it on the player, operating it just as Bates had demonstrated.

The first song that came out was a very bizarre sounding song, though Yori was sure that was partly due to the fact that she didn’t understand the lyrics. She was pretty sure it was some sort of inside joke, or reference being made to other things in English pop culture, all she was really able to gather was that the singer wanted to go to a movie. The second one was a sweet sounding love song, with a bit of profanity thrown in for good measure, but nonetheless fun.

However, Yori had to admit that her favorite so far was the fourth song. Why? It was a dance song that came with instructions, though she had the feeling she was doing the steps with something missing. Oh well, she was having fun and occupying her mind as she listened to it over and over again. Idly she thought that this dance would be a good way to distract enemies if it came out of nowhere. She was giggling to herself as she spun and danced and ended up landing on her behind after tripping over her own feet.

“Are you really attempting the Chrono Twist?” a voice asked from over in the corner. And there was Monkey Fist, leaning against a shelving unit, arms crossed, a wry smirk in place, and for just a moment looking for all the world like a bad boy romantic lead in a rom-com.

Yori stiffened, “Lord Monkey Fist,” she managed to say without stammering, “I did not know you were here,”

“I could tell,” he replied wryly.

“How long, how much of that were you here for?” Yori asked, more thankful than ever that he couldn’t see the blush rising on her face.

“I came looking for you shortly after Bates had finished escorting you here and educating you on the use of a turntable and he sent me here. I’ve been here at least as long as you’ve had my record on and even without sight I can almost guarantee you’re doing the Chrono Twist wrong.”

“How did you know it was that song?”

“Besides the fact that the song mentions the title at least four times in its duration and you’ve repeated listening to it three times already? That record had been a personal favorite of mine since I was small. I can recite verbatim every word to every song on that disk.”

“You like this sort of music?” Yori couldn’t help but ask.

“I was young once too,” he said, “My father once left this record out and I stumbled upon it while seeking refuge from my isolation.”

“Weren’t you still isolated while in here?”

“Perhaps, but when I was in here, I never _felt_ like I was alone. Music has a funny way of doing that you know.”

“The wind has always done the same for me,” Yori admitted.

“You weren’t allowed time for leisure, time for music?” He asked.

“Not much, there was a great deal of focus on our main studies and training which left very little time for artistic pursuits. But I often liked to meditate outside, and the smell of lotus blossoms and the wind that was par for the course on a mountain always made me feel like I wasn’t alone, even when I was the only one in the courtyard.”

“I see,” the room was quiet, broken only by the next song on the record, “So why is a Yamanouchi ninja so interested in the soundtrack to the _Rock n’ Roll Horror Show_?” he asked.

“Is that the name of it?” Yori asked, “I admit I hadn’t been paying attention to the titles of the albums themselves. It merely seemed like a fun record to listen to.”

“It is, but I’ll bet you wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the context of all these songs,” Monkey Fist said with a laugh, “The source material explores themes your culture would find less than honorable.”

“We are not quite so uptight as to think of every little thing below European Puritanism dishonorable,” Yori quipped back.

“Perhaps not, I mean after all: Japan does have an inordinate amount of love hotels, does it not?”

Yori pinked, “I rarely leave the mountain for Tokyo, which is where the vast majority are supposedly located, so I don’t believe I would know.”

“Relax ninja,” Monkey Fist said, “I know you don’t have much worldly experience, that’s what makes this so much fun.”

“Makes what so much fun?”

“Teasing you,” He replied simply.

“What has come over you that makes you so happy?” Yori asked, noticing that he appeared to be in a very good mood for some reason, “You do not tease.”

“Au contraire,” He corrected, “Do I not tease you and the cheer squad when I am winning?”

“I do believe that is considered gloating,”

“A subset of teasing,” Monkey Fist rationalized.

“If you insist,” Yori let the matter drop, he was in a good mood for whatever reason and Yori was not about to change that unless absolutely necessary, “Do you wonder if they have caught Fukushima-san yet?”

“Why? Are you so eager to go back to being adversaries?” he asked in reply.

“It is not that,” Yori responded, “It is just…” she trailed off.

“Let me guess; you miss home? Your friends? Your colleagues? Your Sensei?”

“In a manner of speaking. But it is not that alone, this,” she struggled to make sense of the thoughts whirling around in her brain, “This time, it feels as though it is a dream. To know the man beneath the monkey, so to speak, to understand you in a way I could only speculate before. To be, for lack of a word that seems adequate, friends with you. This time we spend here in this castle, with your mother, with Bates, with the ninja monkeys: it all feels as though it is time in a bubble, and I am simply left worried and wondering about when it will pop.”

“I suppose that is a valid concern to have,” Monkey Fist replied, “But I wouldn’t concern yourself with it. Doesn’t your Sensei tell you ninjas to embrace change?”

“But this is a change that will revert when I leave this place.”

“If you’re going to act so maudlin about it I’ll send you back now.”

“Now who’s eager to be rid of whom?” Yori asked.

“Hush, what will be, will be. Change is natural no matter how unnatural it always seems. We will eventually have to go back to being enemies, but for now we can enjoy each other’s company without worrying about what side we represent or the fact that we shouldn’t get along. We’ve been stuck together for three months without killing each other, which is far longer than I would have lasted with anyone else, especially the cheer squad. Worry about today, not tomorrow.”

“I suppose it would be easier to accept if I did not already know that my leaving here will not change a thing about us,” Yori replied, “To know that when next we meet we will be enemies, it makes me sad. You are a wise man and an admirable warrior. I respect you.”

“You can respect someone without liking their life choices,” Monkey Fist said, “But no more talk of this. It will only sour the mood the way other serious conversations of ours have. Instead, how about I show you the correct way to Chrono Twist?”

“Can you do that?” Yori raised a brow.

“I can do more than that. But first, turn off that record player. We can use the CD and stereo I have set up for this,” he said stepping forward without assistance. Monkey Fist began to traverse the room, slowly and haltingly, but without bumping into anything. He reached a small side table a short distance from where the record corner was and opened a drawer beneath it. He pulled out a remote and then tossed it in her direction.

Yori caught it with surprise written all over her face. She would have understood him knowing where her location was when he had been standing in the doorway but he shouldn’t have been able to once he moved.

“You, you were able to walk without losing your balance, without walking into anything, you were able to throw something at me,” she stammered out in her surprise.

“And you were able to catch something thrown at you; my, aren’t we perceptive today,” he quipped back, “Now, point that remote over at that standing case there and press the button that says power,” he pointed to a case with closed doors that she hadn’t thought did anything. Yori followed his instructions and found that the panels pulled back to reveal a state of the art sound system.

“Good, now that that’s done, go look for the CD version of that musical. It should be right next to the sound system on the middle shelf. Once you find it, put the CD in and turn it to track four.”

“Before I do that,” Yori said striding to him and grasping his face with her hands, “Let me look at you,” she studied his eyes: his eyes that were supposed to be unable to see anything were still that same milky blueish white they had been after the Yono had cursed him, but as she studied them more and more closely they appeared to be _glowing_. Power radiated from them, and Yori realized what was happening, “Your monkey powers,” she breathed, “They are restoring your sight.”

“Yes,” he responded simply.

“How, how long have they been like this?” Yori asked.

“To be honest? I have no idea,” he replied, “For about a month I believe I’ve been able to see hints, shadows of things when I moved my eyes quickly, but this new slightly blurry but still usable vision is only a few days old. Anyways, come, and I’ll show you how to properly do the Chrono Twist.”

Yori followed his instructions and skipped the CD to track four. The opening music began and Yori made sure there was no furniture around them. The opening lines began to play and Yori stood there with Monkey Fist, both of them waiting for the chorus to come.

“Ready?” he asked as the end of the verse drew near.

“Whenever you are,” she replied.

“Very well,” he said, timing his voice to that of the singer, “It’s just a leap to the left,” they jumped, “And then you glide to the right,” they sailed back to their original positions, “Bend your knees like so,” he demonstrated and she copied, “And bring your arms in tight,” their arms were brought in just under their chests, “And then you start to twist, from side to side,” the end of the chorus resounded around them as they twisted.

Yori was surprised that someone like the man she had been sworn to fight against was able to know something like this. The movements were not so different from the ones she had attempted on her own, but there was a bit of a dramatic flair to them that was obviously learned and not invented, one that made this dance oddly timeless and iconic. They continued to dance like that until the song ended, and Monkey Fist ended up on the floor. Yori stopped, alarmed at the sudden collapse, but when she went to make sure he was okay he brushed her off.

“I’m absolutely fine,” he told her as he rose to his feet, “That’s also part of the dance.”

“Falling to the floor is part of the dance?” Yori raised a brow at him, “I highly doubt that.”

“Prepare to be proven wrong then,” Monkey Fist said, “If you watch _The Rock n’ Roll Horror Picture Show_ you’ll see the way the dance ends is with all the dancers collapsing onto the floor.”

“I thought you said it was the _Rock n’ Roll Horror Show_ ,” Yori said, “Why did you add the word picture?”

“The musical stage show is just the _Rock n’ Roll Horror Show_ ,” Monkey Fist explained, “But shortly after it debuted in America there was a call to make a movie out of it. Back in the day movies were often called picture shows because, what are they but a series of moving pictures played at a speed as to mimic movement. And as it just so happens, I own the movie and can prove that’s how the dance ends. Would you care to watch it and see?”

“I see no other task that requires my attention,” Yori replied, “So it would be my honor to watch this movie with you.”

KP

As much as Yori didn’t want to admit it, Monkey Fist had been right about the movie, about the whole production really. It had been unlike anything else she had ever been used to and she wasn’t sure it was an experience she wanted to repeat. Still, there were some things that simply had to be seen and experienced, and something like this film would never have been approved of at Yamanouchi. If nothing else, she was grateful she had experienced it if only so she would never have to go through the experience of watching it for the first time again. He, on the other hand, had seemed to enjoy her discomfort immensely, not that he could enjoy the film much with his eyesight only being so-so.

“I thank you for the opportunity to experience something I am certain I might not otherwise have gotten the chance to,” Yori said, “It is a memory I will treasure.”

“Why treasure a memory with your enemy?” Monkey Fist asked.

“Right now, we are not enemies,” Yori pointed out, “But that too will change soon.”

“I suppose so,” he agreed.

“With your vision returning, you will no longer need a bodyguard. In which case, I will return to Yamanouchi, return to being to being your adversary.”

“Indeed,” there was a moment of silence between the two of them in which Monkey fist took the opportunity to collect his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t, but his honor not only as a villain but as a man compelled him to speak, “You know,” he began, “I never repaid you for saving my life that night at Yamanouchi,”

“There is no need,” Yori replied, “It was my-”

“Your honor, yes I know,” he finished, “However, and I am only telling you this because you swore to me anything you learned here would not be shared with others, I owe you a life debt.”

“A life debt?” Yori questioned, “Why?”

“Surprisingly enough, even us villains have certain codes of conduct. One of which includes a life debt if another saves our life. Traditionally it stays between villains, but you have gone above and beyond the mere call of duty, so I believe an exception can be made in this case,” he continued, “When one villain saves another the rescuer or rescuers are entitled to one favor, and only one. But because I can figure out the way you think, I will tell you now: once my sight returns I will not give up on my quest to be the Ultimate Monkey Master. I will do anything to ensure that happens, including eliminating all those in my way. You, not should but _when_ you choose to interfere with my business once more, will be spared once and only once. That is my repayment. Any choice you make to go against me after that is not one where your death can be laid with me. Is that understood?”

Yori studied him a moment. He truly looked uncomfortable, as though revealing this secret to her was a betrayal of everything he had known as a villain, and she had no doubt it was. But he had a modicum of honor, which meant that being in this life debt to her forever would have made him more uncomfortable. If there was one thing she understood from this time she had spent here, it was that he hated to be beholden to anyone for anything.

“I understand, Lord Monkey Fist,” she said.

“Good, and I trust you know that should anything you’ve learned here be revealed to anyone else on the side of good, not even a life debt will save you.”

“Understood,”

“Monty!” Nanny Maim called shrilly as she burst into the room with as much proper pomp and circumstance as could be considered dignified, “There you are. Bates and I have been looking all over for you.”

Yori saw Monkey Fist flash an irritated expression as he rolled his head in her direction, “Whatever could it be mother?” he asked.

“Word has gotten out that you’ve returned home, and been staying,” Maim informed him, “Why just today you’ve received several invites to various balls, galas, and musicales.”

Balls? Galas? Musicales? They were words that seemed to belong to a –to put it politely- trashy regency romance novel, one of the things she had noticed was a commonality in any store no matter the size, rather than the life of Lord Monkey Fist.

“I know,” Monkey Fist said, “And I intend to decline every one of them,” he replied with finality.

“But, but,” Nanny Maim sputtered, obviously shocked and more than likely outraged with the behavior of her offspring, “Such behavior shows no decorum!”

“Mother, I haven’t been able to see for the last few months, in addition to recovering from being turned to stone. I think I have a right to refuse attending a few parties.”

“True,” Maim agreed reasonably. Perhaps a little _too_ reasonably, “But tongues are starting to wag, and rumors starting to fly. If you don’t do something to control the damage the family’s reputation could be ruined irreparably and on the off chance you ever _have_ children, they will be ostracized for something that is not their fault. That is a fate I refuse to allow to occur.”

“Mother don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?” Monkey Fist asked.

“Nonsense!” Maim declared, “I only ask you attend one, Monty. That is the only expectation I have of you. You need to start repairing your image for the sake of the Fiske family. Go to one, mingle amongst the elite for a few hours and then retire for the evening. As long as they have some juicy yet non-sordid stories to tell about you everything will be fine once more.”

“Mother,” Monkey Fist groaned, readying himself for yet another endless onslaught of the duties he had to uphold as head of the house and Lord of the manor.

“Your Lordship,” Yori cut in, attempting to mediate, “I think that you should do as your mother says.”

“You think _what_?” he asked, looking in her direction incredulously, “Woman have you forgotten that there’s a rouge ninja after my blood? How safe would I be out amongst the crowd of people who only play with weapons for sport?”

“I think it would be an excellent strategy,” Yori reasoned, “We still have not heard from Sensei nor any others from Yamanouchi about the whereabouts of Fukushima. If he has followed us here but been unable to attack making him believe we have forgotten about him is the best course of action. He will strike when you are supposedly least expecting it and when he does we will be ready for him.”

“But that would entail you attending the ball with me and you do not have the connections necessary to garner an invite,” he pointed out.

“That is true,” Yori admitted.

“No, but you can take her as your escort for the evening,” Nanny Maim replied.

“ _What_?” the other two exclaimed simultaneously.

“Close your mouths you two. You’re humans, more or less; not codfish,” Maim chastised.

“But mother, how would I explain having her there? You think the gossips wouldn’t wag their tongues? Especially after I’ve been away for so long?”

“There is a simple solution for that Monty,” his mother told him, “For the duration of your absence from England you’ve been guest teaching at a university in Japan on its archaeology and history with regards to simian folklore. Yori here, is one of your brightest students whom you invited here with you as an intern studying your private collection whilst you return here on sabbatical. None of these people bother to fact-check. And it’s as close to the truth as we can allow.”

“Even so mother,” Monkey Fist argued, “Do you really think anyone will believe it? The age difference will make them talk.”

“It doesn’t matter what they believe, as long as you stick to that story no one can say any different,” Maim replied.

“But Madam-” Yori quickly corrected herself, “Nanny Maim, to attend one of these functions requires a specific type of dress does it not? I do not have any other attire besides my night clothes and my fighting garb.”

“Yes,” Maim drawled, eyeing the ninja outfit up with barely disguised disgust, “Formal attire is required. A suit for Monty and perhaps a ball gown for you.”

“Ball gown?” Yori repeated, “Please, what is this ball gown?”

“Most likely what every girl has been conditioned to think of when they think of England and especially English nobility. A big poufy dress that’s more fashion than function,” Monkey Fist answered.

“I do not think I would be able to wear such a thing,” Yori said shaking her head regretfully, “I would not be accustomed to moving in it and it would impede my ability to protect your son should disaster strike.”

“The nobility here in England isn’t quite so backwards as that, regardless of what Monty says” Maim eyed her son, “While I may not completely approve of some of the fashions the women wear nowadays I’m quite certain we can come to a compromise, even if it need to be specially ordered.”

“Mother, when is the soiree you expect me to attend that you can order a gown for her and have it made to your standards?” Monkey Fist asked.

“The end of next week, of course,” Maim replied, “And it just so happens that I am still on very good terms with the best modiste in the country. I shall give her a ring and get Yori’s gown started immediately.”

Yori watched and Monkey Fist listened as Nanny Maim swept out of the room.

“Your mother certainly is…” Yori trailed off, searching for the right word to accurately describe the old firecracker.

“A pain in my rear end?” Monkey Fist supplied helpfully, “Like that’s news to me.”

“Everything she does, she does out of love for you,” Yori pointed out, “Meddling, as you put it, is simply the only way of showing affection she seems to be able to do that you allow.”

He looked in her direction, “You think I _allow_ my mother to meddle with my life? Have you completely lost it ninja?”

“If you truly did not wish for your mother to interfere, you would take care of it. Just as you have not hesitated to take care of your enemies.”

“And look where that’s gotten me,” he rebutted.

“That is due to your underestimation of their skills. You know your mother well, and that is why if you truly did not wish for her to be a part of your life, however small, you would make certain that was the case. Truly, I think on a certain level part of you likes that she meddles, that she shows her attentions in such a way because of the way you were raised for the longest time. Tell me, your Lordship, do you know the opposite of love?”

“Hatred,” he replied automatically.

“I suppose that is what most think of when asked that question, so in its own way that is right. However, it is also wrong.”

“Then what _is_ the opposite of love, ninja?”

“Apathy Lord Monkey Fist. Indifference; to love, to hate, they take energy, a passion, a desire, and to a small degree they take obsession. Whatever your feelings, you _have_ them in regards to someone. With apathy, you do not care: if someone lives, if they die, whether they’re happy or sad. There is nothing, and this nothingness, this not caring is the most dangerous thing of all. That is why it is the opposite of love, and perhaps the root of all evil: as villains do not care for the lives they damage to achieve their goals. Your father, in that regard, was a villain to you as he ignored you for the sake of his own pleasures and used you as a token against your mother, even knowing how much it would hurt. He cared for no one but himself.”

“And how do _you_ know so much about my father?”

“Your mother told me as much the day I met her,” Yori replied, “I am sorry if I have overstepped, but-”

“It doesn’t matter,” he cut her off, “Even if you were right there’s no way I would admit as much to either you or her. I think I’m going to go, meditate for a while.”

“Would you mind some company?”

“Yes, I think I would,” without another word he ambled out of the room, leaving Yori to stare after in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties, jealous noble-ladies, thwarted attempts at non-con, and the end

“Yori dear, try to hold still,” Nanny Maim chided gently. She could understand why the young woman was fidgeting though, her modiste friend had been measuring, poking, prodding, drawing, and annotating for more than three hours. Even _she_ would have requested a break by now, but Yori was far too polite to interrupt. Far better to have it over and done with than have to go back.

“I am Nanny Maim,” Yori replied, “It is just that my arms grow weary,”

“I can tell,” the older woman said, “Annabelle, please; let the girl rest a moment.”

“ _Oui_ ,” the other woman’s heavily accented voice said, backing away and returning to the sketchbook she’d brought with her, making notes and other strokes with her pencil.

Yori breathed a sigh of relief as she lowered her arms and stepped off the stool she woman had placed her on, “Many thanks Nanny Maim,” she bowed.

“Even I thought this was going on a bit too long,” Maim answered, “Annabelle?”

“ _Oui_ Madame?” the elderly French woman replied without looking up from her book.

“What do you think?”

“ _C’est_ _fini_ ,” Annabelle said, “I am finished with my measurements. I apologize for how long it took, but I need them exact in order to create the best gown for you. Now let’s see…” she returned to the pages, scribbling and sketching.

Nanny Maim shook her head, “She’s one of the best I’ve ever seen at her craft, but along with that comes some eccentricities. Come Yori, let’s have some tea. When she’s ready I’ll look over the designs and select one.”

“Yes Nanny Maim,” Yori replied.

KP

They had been drinking in relative silence with the occasion bout of conversation when Annabelle bust into the room excitedly.

“ _Voil_ _à_!” she exclaimed, “I am a genius. Several designs and all of them _parfait_ for the little cherub,” she took a sheaf of papers and brought them before the old woman, “Well what do you think?”

“Hmm…” Nanny Maim hummed as she looked through them, sorting them into piles and occasionally looking at Yori as though to try and imagine the girl in them, “These are all incredible designs Annabelle, and they suit her body type well, but they just don’t seem to fit _her_. Perhaps a gown that…” she trailed off, whispering into the other woman’s ear.

Annabelle’s eyes lit up, “Ah, I see. _Un moment_ _S’il vous pla_ _î_ _t_ ,” she rushed out and retrieved her sketchbook, drawing madly like a woman possessed. Apparently this had been a design she’d already had but had rejected, though now she was adding and subtracting to it with great fervor, “And… done!” she showed the new design to Nanny Maim, “What do you think Madame? Some of my best work, no?”

Maim peered at Yori for a moment from behind the new design before nodding, “Yes, I think that will be perfect.”

“ _Très bien_!” Annabelle clapped her hands together, “Now as for the colors, I was thinking _rouge_ _et jaune_ , they will fit her complexion nicely.”

“In that order?” Maim questioned.

“ _Oui_ , here,” she pointed to a spot on the dress, “and here.”

“I see, yes that will do quite nicely.”

“ _Magnifique_! I will return to my studio and begin construction at once! This shall be one of the finest gowns I have ever created. You will not be disappointed Madame, this I swear!”

“I never am,” Maim replied, “Thank you Annabelle, you are dismissed.”

“ _Au revoir_!” Annabelle’s voice rang as she departed.

“Nanny Maim?” Yori questioned as soon as the other woman was gone.

“Yes child?”

“Why was I not allowed to see the gown I am to wear?”

“I would like it to be a surprise,” Maim replied, “After all, I have a feeling this is the only time I can play some semblance of either mother-in-law or fairy godmother, and I want to make it memorable. You will be pleased, of that I’m sure. The dress is fashionable, yet functional and will be something worth remembering. It fits all your requirements and will allow you to both blend in and stand out. I look forward to seeing you try it on.”

“Many thanks then, Nanny Maim,” Yori bowed and decided to head out.

KP

The day of the ball slowly but surely arrived, and with it came Yori’s dress. Bates had delivered it to Nanny Maim who presented it to Yori. The young ninja gasped with delight upon seeing it.

“It is beautiful Nanny Maim,” she said, voice awed and eyes still glued to the creation.

“I knew you would like it.”

“I do not feel as though I can accept something like this,” Yori shook her head.

“You have no choice, the ball starts in a few hours and you have nothing else to wear. Speaking of which, go try it on.”

Yori ducked behind a changing screen and donned the dress.

“Well? How does it fit?”

“It fits perfectly, and I can move in it. I do believe that if it came down to it I could fight in this dress.”

“Good, that was one of the things I told Annabelle: you needed to move like a warrior, not a dancer in it. It wasn’t an easy task, but Annabelle always did enjoy a challenge. When Monty and I are ready I’ll have Bates come for you. In the meantime, I have something else for you.”

“The dress is already too much Nanny Maim,” Yori protested, peeking out from behind the screen, “I cannot accept any more.”

“True as you might think that you cannot attend a soiree like this empty-handed, or bare jeweled as the case may be. Here,” she presented a smaller box to the girl, “Put that on and take a look at yourself.”

Yori did as she was told, “This is absolutely incredible,” she breathed, “Domo, Nanny Maim.”

“All set?” at Yori’s hummed affirmation she continued, “Then let me see you,”

Yori stepped out and showcased Annabelle’s creation, spinning a little in girlish excitement.

“You look stunning,” Maim praised, “Now, perhaps a bit of makeup to finish it off; not that you need it of course, but heaven and I know too well how superficial “genteel” society is. While you do that I shall make sure Bates is finishing up with my son and get myself ready. Try not to wrinkle the dress or get into any mishaps with it.”

“Of course Nanny Maim,” Yori replied, “And again, domo.”

“My pleasure dear girl,” Maim said, exiting the room with a swish of her skirts.

KP

“Monty stand up straight! Don’t you slouch, you’re escorting a lady tonight,” Maim corrected and berated her son who was standing at the bottom of the grand central staircase all European noble homes seemed to have.

“Mother I know, for heaven’s sake stop fussing over me,” Monkey Fist complained. He was thankful however, that the old black suit and tailcoats he’d had to have _aired_ he hadn’t worn them in so long passed muster. His mother had pinned a boutonniere into his lapel. Some reddish orange-yellow flower. From what he could tell likely a Giraffe Lily.

There came a hush over the room, and that’s when he knew Yori had arrived and was about to make her grand decent. He turned in the direction of the stairway seeing blurs and shapes but nothing concrete. What he couldn’t see –but Maim had Bates recording for posterity- was the vision she made as she joined them.

Annabelle’s design with Maim’s input was truly a visionary creation. A blend of eastern and western fashion. At the bodice it resembled a traditional kimono with the traditional two layers and it was even crossed the correct way: left over right. The _nagajuban_ , or secondary kimono resembling a wrapper and peeking out from under the collar of the rest of the kimono. The main part of the kimono was a brilliant scarlet color, while the _nagajuban_ and trim at the end of the longish sleeves was a sunny yellow color. The _Obi_ separating the bodice from the skirt was the same color. From under the _Obi_ came the western influence. There was still the outer red layer that matched the kimono, but it split at the middle and revealed a panel of white skirts which made the dress full and round from all angles. On top of that, the upper folds of the bodice clung precariously to the rounds of her shoulders, near threatening to slip off at any moment. And yet, the cut of the rest of it saved it from immodesty.

She wore makeup so neutral it looked as though she was wearing nothing. And her hair, it had been left down: but the red headband she usually wore had been replaced. The new one had a black band and disappeared on her head, with a matching flower to Monkey Fist’s boutonniere made of semi-precious stones on the right side.

“You will surely outshine all those wilting wallflowers,” Maim declared proudly, “I’m sure if your parents could see you now, they would say the same.”

“Indeed miss,” Bates added

Monkey Fist said nothing, only staring at the colorful blob that was Yori. Maim, who was standing near her son, threw a subtle elbow into his back. He stiffened in pain and glared at her.

“Well?” she whispered.

“Well what?” he hissed back.

“Compliment her,” Maim prompted.

Oh right, the ever so lovely dictates of etiquette.

Monkey Fist cleared his throat and began, “Yori, it is indeed a pity that I have been robbed of my sight, when I can hear the reactions you elicit from Bates and my mother. They are not ones to be easily swayed, and that you do says something. But rest assured, even without my sight I am certain you will be the loveliest woman there. I can only apologize in advance for the fact that your introduction to them must be on the arm of a near blind man.”

Yori was glad he hadn’t been able to see her just then because she pinked at his words. There was no doubt he was a scholarly man, so eloquent with his words and manner. If there had ever been any doubt as to how Kim Possible –whom she considered as perceptive as one not from Yamanouchi could get- had been convinced he was a good man, there was none now.

“I-” she stuttered, “I thank you, your Lordship, for your generous compliment. It is my honor to accept.”

“Now that we have all that settled,” Maim cleared her throat, “We shall be off. Bates have things ready for us when we return.”

“Yes mum,” the valet replied, “As always.”

The ride over hadn’t been too unpleasant, with Bates at the wheel driving them over to the estate. But there had been a bit of an awkward silence between the three partygoers for some reason. Maim and Monkey Fist appeared to be in a fight for no reason as no one had said anything once the engine had started. Yori, for her part, was nervous. She had never attended a ball before and on top of that there was the added worry of Fukushima. While he had not attacked for the duration of her stay so far, it did not mean he hadn’t followed them and was biding his time. A party like this? It could prove to be a perfect opportunity as it would be all too easy to separate Yori and the Monkey Lord. On top of that, his monkey ninjas had been instructed to stay home –reluctantly on his part, but Maim had insisted.

Once at the new estate they had been guided to a receiving line and told to wait. Slowly but surely they made their way through the grand hall and into the entrance to the ballroom. When the crier announced their names they descended: Maim first, followed by Monkey Fist with Yori on his arm. Though her nervousness was real, it also made for a good excuse to scout out the ballroom, looking for any potential hiding places or weak spots and escape routes in case she needed to get the Monkey Lord out of a sticky situation fast.

Surprisingly, Monkey Fist had chosen to face his peers head on without the aid of some tinted glasses. no sooner had they reached the floor than they were swarmed with people. Yori noted with slight distaste that many of them appeared to be marriage-minded mothers with their young daughters in tow. They preened and simpered and ignored Yori altogether even with her arm still nestled firmly in the crook of his. They insincerely inquired after his health, how his last voyage had gone, where he had been, and what had happened to his eyes.

“Ah yes,” he had replied, easily slipping into the role of charming yet detached and distant nobleman, “My last voyage included the opportunity of a lifetime. I was afforded the chance to teach at a prestigious college in Japan. That is where I have been this while away. In fact,” he pulled Yori closer to him, “this is one of my students, Yori Yamanouchi. She took an especial interest in my particular fields of study and proved herself worthy of an internship to study some of the artifacts in my private collection over the break. So here she is. As to what happened to my eyes? An optometrist appointment today. What I thought would be a routine checkup turned into the good doctor dilating my eyes. I’d completely forgotten about the ball and by the time I remembered it was too late.”

“You should sue,” one lady dared to reply as the rest clucked simperingly in faux sympathy.

“It was as much my fault for not remembering as it was his for going ahead with it,” Monkey Fist said, chuckling in apparent self-depreciation, “And it will be fixed soon enough. No need to waste money trying to go through the legal system.”

“And you, young miss,” At the mention by one mama all eyes were on Yori, “Tell us how you came to be involved with Lord Fiske.”

“Ah,” Yori drawled, looking worriedly at the Monkey Lord. They hadn’t exactly gone over the details of the story, they hadn’t thought anyone would care enough to ask, “Prof, Lord Fis-” she stumbled, trying not out him to his peers, “Fiske was invited to my university as a guest lecturer on archaeology. The lecture garnered so much attention that they invited him to stay as a visiting professor. I attended as many of his classes as I could and strove to prove I was worthy of his tutelage…” she said all this haltingly, trying to make it seem believable, “I apologize for my manner of speak, but while in Japan Lord Fiske spoke to us in Japanese, which he is quite fluent in. And while we are taught English in Japan from a young age we do not often use it outside of the classroom. And so I am, unused to speaking English in casual conversation.”

“Indeed,” Monkey Fist added, backing her up, “Yori is an exceptionally bright student, even among a sea of others. Japanese educatees are among the brightest in all their fields. It was a _pleasure_ getting to interact with them,” the way he was weaving the lie was so skillful even Yori almost believed it.

“Professor, eh, Lord Fiske,” Yori cut in on the adulations from the adoring crowd, “I suggest we find you a seat.”

“Quite right, perhaps near the open bar I’m certain is here?”

“If that is where you wish to be,” Yori carefully guided him to where he had requested, a trek slowed by many other well-wishers who came to greet them. Yori could see the speculation and doubt in their eyes as to the nature of her relationship to the apparently most eligible bachelor in the room. But Nanny Maim had been quite correct, as long as they stuck to the story no one said anything more. It certainly helped that while they remained arm in arm that was the extent of their point of contact.

When she finally had him settled at a barstool he listened for the bartender and then ordered some sort of spirit Yori didn’t recognize. The keep returned with an amber liquid in a small glass. Monkey Fist sniffed at the glass, checking the vintage.

“A fine whiskey,” he declared, downing the entire contents of the glass in one go. He shivered afterwards, “Not as potent as sake but a good burn nonetheless.”

“You imbibe?” Yori questioned.

“Not normally,” he replied, “Only when I have to deal with people from this world, and mother wonders why I’m never around long enough. Or when I am dealing with a situation where etiquette calls for it. If I _have_ to I prefer sake, but generally tea is what I prefer above all others. My body is a temple and all that.”

“I see, and this whiskey is not as strong as sake?” truthfully, she didn’t know either way being too young to drink.

“Care to find out?” he asked as the bartender set another shot down before him.

Yori glanced between the shot glass and the man who held it, “I think it would be best if I kept my wits about me,” she said finally.

“Wish I could do the same,” Monkey Fist replied mournfully, “But if I’m going to have to deal with high society all night and don’t want to go to jail for killing anyone this is a necessary evil.”

Yori muffled a laugh with her hand, “I’m certain,” she quipped.

“Yori dear,” Nanny Maim swept over to her, “Care to take a turn about the ballroom with me? There are many people dying to make your acquaintance.”

“Will you be fine here?” Yori asked.

“What’s a half hour? I’m in plain sight anyways,” Monkey Fist dismissed her with a wave of his hand, “Go, not like this is stalling our departure.”

Yori nodded and placed her arm in Nanny Maim’s. Together they circuited the ballroom in record time, but before she knew it Yori was alone surrounded by eager eyed gentleman. They crowded around her, asking about her life, asking for a dance, asking for her phone number, asking for a chance to call on her –whatever that meant. Yori felt stifled but as gracefully and politely as she could bowed out of the situation. As she was returning to Monkey fist she was waylaid by yet another young man. This one was proper enough to keep his distance, but he held out a stemmed glass filled with a pale golden liquid out to her.

“Sorry to seem rude,” he began, “But you looked suffocated from all that attention. Thought you might appreciate something to drink.”

Yori glanced from his eyes to the drink in his hand. Propriety dictated that she accept it, at least as far as she knew. And it _was_ rather hot in here, a drink would do her some good. With that though in mind she graciously took the drink from him. He toasted with her and they drank. The liquid was slightly bitter, but bubbly and not altogether unpleasant. But while the liquid had quenched her parched throat, it made the ballroom seem all the hotter by comparison.

“I believe, I need some air,” Yori got out slowly, making sure to keep up the act of being unused to English.

“Of course, I find I could use some myself,” he replied, “Shall we go together?”

The heat of the room getting to her, Yori hastily agreed. She took the man’s arm and they were off. He led her to a library and proceeded to open the windows while she stood watching him. All of a sudden, she felt dizzy. There were couches and other seats, she should sit down. The man sat down, uncomfortably close to her.

“Please,” she began mind racing and yet feeling sluggish all at the same time, “I ask that you move,”

He knew what she’d meant –she saw it in his eyes- but he moved closer, leaning in such a way that had her leaning back to get away from him. With alarm bells sounding in her head Yori got up and went to the doors, intent on returning to the monkey lord. The doors remained closed and refused to move. She turned around to look at her companion with fear in her eyes, he was pinning her against the wood. Normally, her training would have had him on the ground already. But although she knew what she should do her body refused to cooperate. What was supposed to be a chop to a pressure point became a weak push against his shoulder. He smiled, coldly, evilly, and with a determination that said he would do all he had planned for her.

Yori shivered in both fear and revulsion. She hated this, how could she have let herself been duped? She hadn’t thought, she hadn’t thought. She’d been so preoccupied with protecting Monkey Fist from Fukushima she hadn’t thought to protect herself. She hadn’t thought men of this station would be capable of such treachery. Monkey Fist wasn’t and he was close to insanity.

The man pulled Yori by the wrist, throwing her back onto the couch and clambering on top of her. he started pulling at the folds of her bodice, tugging them away and trying to get at the flesh beneath. His hands roamed her body: leaving trails of tremoring disgust in their wake. Yori wished she was strong enough to fight him off, this hadn’t been the first time missions had gotten her into situations like this, but while usually she was able to stop these things before they began: whatever he’d done to her rendered her incapable of protecting herself. Tears of shame rolled down her cheeks as she realized what was going to happen. She was going to be deflowered, dishonored, and returned to Yamanouchi a broken girl. That was, if she felt she could return at all. Her mind called out for Monkey Fist, knowing that even though they were enemies he would not stand for this and if he could have seen it he never would allowed it to happen.

Just as she thought her assailant was going to rape her he was pulled off and flung from her body. Her eyes opened to meet open air. She sat up and saw another man hunched over her attacker, growling ferociously and with a distinctly simian tone. Monkey Fist! He’d come after all. He backhanded the man who had attempted to rape her and hissed some deathly threat she couldn’t make out into his ear. Monkey Fist slammed the boy’s head down hard enough to render him unconscious for a few hours but not kill him before returning to Yori. Her eyes found sea-blue ones that crackled with power. His sight had been restored!

“My Lord,” she said, rising to her feet and stumbling towards him, “I thank-” the wooziness in her head prevailed and Yori felt herself pitching backwards, she was blacking out.

KP

When she next awoke it was to find herself in the bed she’d been using for the past few months at Fiske castle. Her head throbbed, even as she lay there and she let out a small groan of pain. A shadow threw itself over her bed and she realized she was not alone.

“How are you feeling?” a voice asked. Monkey Fist.

“I am feeling, better than I last remember,” she said slowly, attempting to rise but too weak to get more than a few inches off the mattress, “What happened to me?”

“From what I can gather, you accepted a drink as social conventions ordered and drank it before going out for some air with your attacker. What you and the rest of the ball didn’t know, however, was that he’d drugged that drink looking for a target. You just happened to be the one he settled on.”

“But, how did you find me?”

“I heard you,” he replied simply, “In my mind, I heard you calling out for help. Something was wrong and you were in danger. Normally I wouldn’t have bothered but something told me you couldn’t fight back which was what had me concerned. So I followed what I could hear and found you.”

“And your sight?” Yori asked, “How was it restored to you?”

“Funny thing, that,” he said, “I managed to stumble my way to the library and get the door open without too much trouble: the lock was old and hitting it in just the right spot pops it from its chamber. When I came into the room my vision was still fuzzy, but upon looking in your direction it all became crystal clear,” what he didn’t, _couldn’t_ tell her was the pure, untapped, and potent rage he’d felt upon seeing her in that position. Something primal within him took over then and he had acted without thinking. Now that she was safe it had retreated, and he wondered where it had come from in the first place.

“I see, and how long have I been unconscious?”

“Nearly a day, so not too bad. We had to have the physician come and flush the drug out of your system, it was potent stuff that could have left lasting damage if we hadn’t.”

“And my, the man?” she inquired.

“My beating was the least of his injuries,” he replied darkly, “He will rot in prison for quite some time, rest assured.”

Yori breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you Monkey Fist, for what you have done to save my honor, the honor of my family whoever they are. I owe you a great debt.”

“I could say the same,” he said.

“Then shall we call it, as you say, even?” she offered.

“You would do that?” he seemed confused that she would rather the debt between them settled now rather than have her life spared later down the road.

“It is what is honorable, but more than that, it is what my heart tells me is right. You have saved me, and I have safeguarded you. It is even, and I promise no one will know of what I have learned once I leave.”

“That reminds me,” Monkey Fist started as though just recalling something, “There is someone here to see you,” he stepped to the door and opened it.

In walked Master Sensei and they bowed to each other. Monkey Fist slipped out the door, effectively switching places with the old man.

“Yori,” Sensei began, “How are you feeling?”

“Better Sensei, but I also feel I must apologize. I nearly let my mission be compromised.”

“How so?”

“I nearly let myself be-” she couldn’t bring herself to say the word aloud, but by Sensei’s expression he knew what she meant, “And I left Monkey Fist unguarded, what if Fukushima had attacked? He could have been killed when he was still blind.”

“Yori,” Sensei hushed her, “You were focused on the mission to the point where his life become more important than your own I would not call that failing. True, you left yourself unguarded, but your mind was thinking only of how to protect your target and you did not expect someone of that position would stoop to such actions in range of witnesses. I would not call that failing. Especially since I was already on my way here.”

“You were?” Yori asked, “Does that mean?”

“Yes,” Sensei answered, “Fukushima has been caught and dealt with. Monkey Fist has regained his sight. And now it is time to return to Yamanouchi.”

“Of course Sensei.”

KP

They prepared to leave the next morning. A helicopter was already outside in the front gardens of the castle, preparing for takeoff. Sensei was conversing with Nanny Maim, and Yori was saying farewell to Bates. Monkey Fist stood out there with them –at Maim’s insistence- and watching on coldly. Sensei bowed to Nanny Maim and boarded the copter, Yori took her turn to say goodbye and turned to join him. But she stopped and looked back at everything she was leaving behind. She returned to say farewell to her once and now current enemy.

“Lord Monkey Fist,” she bowed low to him, “It has been my honor to protect you these last few months.”

“It has been my honor –albeit grudgingly- to have been protected by such a capable warrior,” he replied.

“It saddens me to think that the next time we meet we will be adversaries once more.”

“You could always join me,” he joked.

“And forsake my honor?” she asked sadly, “That would be like asking you to forsake your path and as I said once before I will not do that no matter how I may wish to see you escape the destiny you have made for yourself.”

“True,” he agreed, “I will never give up trying to become the Ultimate Monkey Master.”

“And I will never give up trying to stop you,”

There was a moment of silence between them then, as the blades of the copter began to spin urging her to finish up. Without warning Yori sprang at him, enveloping him in a hug. Without thinking he returned the embrace. It was brief, yet with it so many unsaid things passed between them.

Yori drew back, not out of his arms, but enough to look at him, “I shall miss you,” she said, “ _This_ you. The man beneath the monster obsession has made him.”

“I shall remember the time we have shared,” he promised.

“As will I,” she agreed, pulling away and taking her leave.

Monkey Fist watched her go, watched as she waved even as the machine drew higher and higher into the sky before it became nothing more than a tiny black dot on the horizon. He saw the look his mother was giving him, but he refused to acknowledge her and retreated to his sanctum instead. He attempted to meditate, but his thoughts constantly returned to the ninja girl. In her he had found an unexpected friend, a confidante, a kindred spirit. She had been a match equal to him, as well as his true opposite.

As he mused he knew that the next time he went for something she would try and stop her. It really was a pity, he thought, that he would have to kill her. But he could –at least to himself- mourn her passing all the same.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank you all for reading this. Reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcomed. See you soon!


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